


Come and Lay the Roses

by We_Are_Only_Halfway_Home93



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arranged Marriage, Boxing, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Mafia AU, Murder, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 56,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/We_Are_Only_Halfway_Home93/pseuds/We_Are_Only_Halfway_Home93
Summary: Little girls grow up believing they'll meet their Prince Charming, fall in love, and get married. Aaline was never naive enough to dream like that. She at least thought she would have a choice in who she married. Her father ended up taking that away from her too.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> An AU Modern Era Vikings story where Ragnar arranges a marriage for Ivar to gain money and power. Ivar is understandably upset about this decision but when he finds out his new wife shares a lot of his interests, things start to look up.

_ “It’s not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.” _

_ ~Friedrich Nietzsche _

 

Ragnar stared deep into the flames fluttering in the fireplace in his office. A glass of scotch hung, untouched, from his fingers. His eyes were unfocused, deep in thought. He shifted when he heard the door open and the clatter of his sons enter the room. He turned in his chair to face them. 

 

His sons, his beautiful sons, the lights of his life. Björn was his oldest. A man grown with children of his own. Björn was his firstborn son with his first wife Lagertha, a formidable woman that commanded respect and still served as his right-hand advisor.

 

Together they had two children, Björn, and Gyda, his only daughter. How he loved his daughter. Her light had brought him such happiness and when it was extinguished, he lost something forever. He could still see her hair in the summer wheat of Norway and her eyes in the color of the sea in the winter time. They say that man must love his sons more, but a man can be jealous of his sons, and his daughter can always be the light of his life.

 

He had twelve years with her and it wasn’t enough. At twelve years old, Gyda started to get sick. She couldn’t sleep at night and she had chills. She often told him and Lagertha that she was tired and then Lagertha told him Gyda was losing weight. It was when she started to get nose bleeds and Björn noticed red spots on her skin that Lagertha took her to the doctors. 

 

Acute lymphocytic leukemia, ALL. Her doctor advised them to begin chemotherapy treatments. He also encouraged them to have Björn tested as siblings had an increased risk of getting ALL. Björn tested negative and the doctors gave them an optimistic outcome. 

 

Something happened though. Gyda got worse, not better. They all tested to see if they were a bone marrow match but none of them were, not even Björn. Gyda was getting sicker and nothing was working. Ragnar was losing hope that his daughter would survive this terrible illness but then one day she appeared to be better. She was cheerier then she had been in months. She was eating again and she was laughing with Björn like she hadn’t been stuck in a hospital for weeks, being poked and prodded every day. She was her old self again.

 

Lagertha always spent the night with Gyda and she said it was around two in the morning when Gyda flatlined. She called him as soon as the doctors started performing chest compressions and Ragnar was quick to wake Floki and have him stay with Björn. It was too late by the time Ragnar got to the hospital. 

 

Lagertha was sitting outside, clutching her hands to her chest. She told him between sobs that doctors worked on Gyda for nearly twenty minutes but they could never get a heartbeat.   

 

No amount of time with his children would ever be enough. It was worse than death, outliving your children.

 

He and Lagertha tried for several months to get back to each other. Gyda’s death tore at them both but there was still love between them. Their love and Björn. Gyda’s death left a hole in their family and in their hearts. One they all tried to fill. 

 

Björn began learning how to kickbox. It became his great passion, something that allowed him to vent his frustrations. 

 

Lagertha began volunteering. She went to soup kitchens and homeless shelters, finding Gyda’s face in every person she helped.                    

 

Ragnar found Aslaug. She was the daughter of a long-dead war hero. Her father Sigurd had died in the Bay of Pigs invasion when she was young and she quickly found a home with her uncle. Her uncle was an Earl of The Northmen, the organization that controlled a large portion of the shipping in the state. When they met, Ragnar was Earl of Kattegat, a chapter of The Northmen, visiting Götaland to form an alliance with the Earl there Jarl Borg.

 

Aslaug lived in the area with her uncle and she enchanted Ragnar as soon as he saw her. She was as clever as she was beautiful and Ragnar found a freshness in her that he hadn’t seen since before Gyda died. It was easy for him to fall under Aslaug’s sway. She was easy to love.

 

They spent a few nights together in Götaland and Ragnar thought it would be easy to forget about their time together. Lagertha welcomed him home with open arms and Björn was smiling more. They were learning to live again.

 

Seven months passed without a word from Aslaug. The alliance between Jarl Borg was shaky but Ragnar was hopeful. When a small caravan arrived one-morning carrying Aslaug and her retinue, Ragnar was apprehensive. He welcomed her with open arms but froze at the sight of her swollen belly. 

 

Aslaug was pleasant to Lagertha and Björn, never showing an ounce of dislike or hatred. Lagertha looked at her with suspicious eyes and bit her tongue as she watched Ragnar and Aslaug together. It wasn’t until they were in the comfort of their own room that she accused him. “Did you have sex with her?”

 

Ragnar couldn’t avoid the question so he didn’t. “Yes.” She threw a pillow at him. He dodged it easily. “How many times?” She asked. Her voice was thick with anger and tears. They had been married for nearly twenty years. He knew his wife well. “I don’t remember.” He said. She screamed a high, broken, roar that he felt in his bones. 

 

She took her things to the guest room and stayed there for the night. Later they discussed the implications of Aslaug’s pregnancy. “If it’s yours, I’m leaving you.” She whispered across the narrow space between them. Ragnar looked up and watched many emotions cross her face. Fear, anger, sadness, vulnerability, but the one that broke his heart was the pain he saw there. He had not seen that look since their daughter died and he was the one who put it there now. He hung his head and only cried when she left the room.

 

Aslaug gave birth to a healthy baby boy and a DNA test was ordered immediately. Three days later, Lagertha left him. Björn chose to go with his mother and Ragnar was left with a new son, an old lover, and divorce papers. 

 

He grew to love Aslaug. She bore him four beautiful sons that made him into the father he is now. 

 

Ubbe was first. He had such passion for life and adventure. His passion extended into all cultures and ideas. He was the only one of his sons to study abroad in school and he traveled the world. He explored different countries and studied different religions all for the sake of learning and knowledge. 

 

Hvitserk was his third son and the second with Aslaug. Ragnar often thought that Hvitserk was lost in the world. Never really finding his place amongst his brothers. He was closest with Ivar and Ubbe but enjoyed quality time with all his brothers. 

 

Sigurd was his third son with Aslaug and fourth overall. Sigurd kept himself apart from his brother’s. He resented his younger brother, Ivar because of his disability. Aslaug spent an inordinate amount of time with Ivar, fearing for his health and safety and, as a result, neglecting her other children. 

 

It wasn’t Sigurd’s fault any more than it was Ivar’s. Aslaug was not a perfect mother but she did her best. Ragnar couldn’t say much either. He was emotionally absent through most is his sons’ childhood and left Aslaug to attend to the boys. He spent nearly two decades traveling for The Northmen and left Aslaug at home with the boys for most of those years.

 

Ivar was the last son gifted to Ragnar and he was the most difficult. Ivar the Boneless, he was called. Ragnar gifted him with the moniker after doctors told them he had DDH, Developmental Dysplasia of the Hip. Through most of his childhood, Aslaug insisted he not walk for fear of hurting himself. 

 

Throughout his early years, he would haul himself around on his hands, building impeccable upper body strength at an early age. After doctor’s assured Ragnar and Aslaug that Ivar could walk, Ragnar took him to physical therapy. 

 

When he was a teenager, he started complaining of pains in his hips and Aslaug took him back to the doctor claiming his DDH came back. As it turned out he just had Inflammatory Arthritis of the Hip. Aslaug nearly insisted that Ivar remain bedridden but Ragnar took a rare step in his son’s care and overruled her. Daily doses of regulated painkillers and physical therapy kept the worst pain at bay.

 

Although Ivar maintained a noticeable limp into his adulthood, he turned into a frightening young man.

 

And he was frightening in every sense of the word. It wasn’t just his ability to walk that grew with him. His aggression and savagery grew as well. He was close to Ragnar’s best friend Floki and Floki’s hatred for the Saxon organization was quickly transferred to Ivar. Ivar made it a point to rid the world of the Saxon organization as if it was his personal mission. Ivar’s cruelty extended beyond just Saxon’s. He was cruel to those he claimed to love, using his brother’s humanity against them at every turn. 

 

Ragnar loved his youngest son and he knew that his behavior was a result of Aslaug’s coddling and Ivar’s own insecurities. When Ivar was a boy, Ragnar told him that everyone would always underestimate him. Not only that, but people ridiculed Ivar for his disability. Less so now than when he was younger but scars of childhood never truly left him. He carried those words with him. Cripple, lame, disabled, lesser, inferior. He wore them as a shield.

 

Ivar’s cruelty was a defense he used to keep people from hurting him and it worked, but it also kept people from loving him. Ragnar hoped to change that. 

 

Nearly twenty years after she bore him his last son, Aslaug was taken from them. The coroner said it was an accident, these things happen, but Ragnar didn’t believe him. A bullet to her heart with her back turned was not an accident. 

 

Ragnar and his brother Rollo spent the better part of a year tracking down the individual responsible. In the end, it turned out to be a rogue soldier for the Saxon army. A warrior who wanted to prove himself to his kings. Ecbert and Aelle didn’t claim him and assured Ragnar that he could do what he wanted with no retribution from either one of them. 

 

Ragnar did but the relationship between the Northmen and the Saxon organizations had never been the same. Neither had Ragnar’s sons.

 

He gazed at them now. Björn, standing proud and tall in front of his father. Ubbe standing beside him. Hvitserk and Sigurd quickly helped themselves to Ragnar’s liquor shelf. Ivar was the only one missing. 

 

Ivar was the purpose of this meeting. Ragnar had recently made a deal with a powerful man and Ivar was the lynchpin.

 

He stood from his desk and faced his four oldest sons. “Shall we begin then.”


	2. Am I Loud and Clear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline learn of the deal their father's made.

_ “Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.” _

_ ~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley _

 

Aaline Jensen stood proud in front of her father, her face void of emotion though inside she was a raging storm. Her back was rigid and her whole body was tense. She felt like she did before a fight, her instincts kicking in and her adrenaline pumping. Her father was looking at her with something akin to fright and pity. 

 

She swallowed thickly before speaking. “What am I supposed to say?” Her voice didn’t shake as much as she thought it would. It was a lot stronger than her fathers was when he’d told her the news. She’d barely spoken above a whisper but her voice seemed to echo throughout the room, hanging between her and her father like ice. 

 

He winced and rubbed hard at his forehead, leaving it red. “I don’t expect you to say anything, Aaline.” He met her eyes and cringed. She was sure they reflected her inner turmoil and rage. Emotions her father was familiar with but they had never been directed at him. He’d really only ever heard stories of her rage. 

 

Now he was the focus of it. The feelings that she kept just under the surface shined behind her eyes and it was directed full force at her father.

 

She hummed and narrowed her eyes, taking a good look at her father for the first time in a long while. His hair was greying at the temples and the lines around his eyes were deep. The shine that she remembered seeing in them as a child was long gone, replaced by something she didn’t have a name for. An emotion she didn’t recognize. His face was thin and haggard and his lips were pale. The suit he was wearing didn’t fit. He had lost weight. A large sum in a short amount of time. Which made sense, given what he’d just told her. He probably had been sick with anticipation. Maybe he lost his appetite or couldn’t keep anything down. Either way, her father no longer resembled the spirited man she remembered from her youth. At least, the parts he’d been around for.

 

She traced her eyes back up his form and locked him into place with her gaze. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of his chair. “Let me see if I’ve got everything. You used Jensen Construction money, our  _ company  _ money, to pay off personal gambling debts and, to keep the board members and the shareholders from finding out that you embezzled company money, you asked, who was it again?” She paused and waited for her father to fill in the blank. She knew very well who her father had negotiated with.

 

He closed his eyes as if in pain and shook his head. “Ragnar Lothbrok.” The name trembled from his lips and he hung his head. 

 

She smiled vindictively and nodded slowly. “Yes, Ragnar Lothbrok, the King of The Northmen, the largest shipping organization in the Midwest whose activities range from one end of the spectrum to the other. You asked Ragnar Lothbrok to  _ lend _ you millions of dollars guaranteeing him that you would pay it back a year and one day after he gave it to you. 366 days, to give him back millions of dollars and you never did? Am I correct?” 

 

His shoulders had started to shake and she could hear the quiet sobs he tried to contain. No part of her felt sympathy for the man standing in front of her. He’d effectively ruined her life with this decision and she would not feel sorry for him. “A year to pay back millions of dollars and you couldn’t do it. So, when Ragnar Lothbrok comes to collect, you have nothing for him except the graying hair on top of your head and Jensen Construction. How am I doing so far?” He remained silent so she continued. 

 

“He was going to kill you.” She nodded when his head came up at her words. She hummed and watched his eyes widen. “He was going to kill you and make it look like an accident before finding some way to insert himself into our company.” He shook his head as she said this and she slammed her hands down on his desk. He jumped back and clasped his shaking hands in front of him. “You’re delusional if you think your death was not part of the plan but you’re a cockroach, dad, and you always find ways to save yourself.” 

 

She stood up straight and walked slowly back and forth in front of his desk. “You decided,” He shook his head and she pointed a threatening finger at him. “Yes,  _ you _ decided that the best way to keep yourself alive was to step down as CEO of Jensen Construction, pass the reigns to me, sign over your 51% of Jensen Construction shares to Ragnar Lothbrok and, as added insurance to make sure you don’t tell anyone, you marry me off to one of his sons. Did I get everything? Did I leave anything out?” 

 

Her father had collapsed into his desk chair with his head in his hands, shaking with silent sobs. His fingers flexed against his scalp and she could see the teardrops on his desktop. She took a step back and waited for him to control himself. 

 

He sat up and wiped his eyes, looking at her before tearing up again. She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. His bar cart was on the back wall and she made herself a whiskey. “I’m your only daughter, your only child and this is how you treat me?” She took a long drink and whirled back around to face him. “You’ve never been the same since mom died and I let you have your grief but at the cost of our relationship.” He recoiled and looked away from her. She ignored him and continued. 

 

“I was naive enough to think that you’d eventually pull your head out of your ass long enough to remember that you had a child but the only time I ever heard from you was when I transferred boarding schools and graduated from Oxford. You kept our relationship distant at best and made a point to interact with me as little as possible.” She downed her whiskey and slammed the glass back down onto the cart it came from. 

 

She sniffed in disdain, feeling hot tears of betrayal and anger well up in her eyes. She pushed them back and stared down at her father. He couldn’t even look at her. “Even now, you can’t even look at me.” She pressed the fingers of her right hand on top of the glass desktop and waited for him to look up at her before delivering her final blow. 

 

“I’m my mother’s daughter and, for some godforsaken reason, she loved you so I’ll do this for you.” The shine of hope started to rise in his eyes and she had to hold back her smile. “I will save your life this one time but know this.” She leaned down until her face was level with his and the careful hope that had sprung up in his face began to disappear. “This is the last time that I will ever see your face again.” His face crumbled but she reached her fingers out and held his face level with hers. “You will never again attempt to see me or speak to me for the rest of your miserable little life. If you do, I will ruin you more than Ragnar Lothbrok ever could.”

 

She dropped his face and let him sink down into his desk, his forehead pressed painfully to the glass. She began to retreat from the room. “I imagine you’ll be expected to attend certain Jensen Construction events, what with it being your name and all. You’ll be at the wedding and any events aligned with it but those are the only times I will allow you to be in my presence again.”

 

She opened the door and turned to look at him. He was small at his desk. His head was still pressed to the desktop and his shoulders had started shaking anew. She tried to recall a picture of him from before when her mother was still alive but nothing was coming to mind. This sad, miserable soul in front of her was just a shadow of the man that was her father and, for the life of her, she couldn’t find it in herself to feel sorry for him.

 

“Send me the details regarding Ragnar Lothbrok and his son, the one I’ll be marrying. I imagine he wishes to meet sooner rather than later.” She didn’t slam the door behind her. She’d made her point.

 

.

 

A glass bowl flew past Ragnar’s head but he didn’t flinch. Björn sighed deeply and closed his eyes when a lamp sailed by his shoulder. Ivar stalked towards the liquor cart and gripped a decanter of scotch in his fist and whirled on his father. Ragnar stood quickly from his chair as the decanter was launched across the room at his head. Ivar had been very careful up to that point to purposely miss his father but he intentionally aimed at him this time. It crashed against the mantle sending glass and amber liquor everywhere. 

 

“Enough!” Ragnar roared. Ivar screamed back long and loud before hunching forward and glaring under his brow at his father. His eyes were hard as winter ice, aiming rage and resent at his father. “Enough, Ivar.” Ragnar sighed and sat back heavily in his desk chair. Björn shifted and crossed his arms over his chest. Ragnar gestured to the chairs across from him. “Have a seat, son.” 

 

Ivar glared at his father before he shuffled forward and slumped down in his seat. Ragnar sighed and steepled his fingers, staring at his youngest child. “I understand you’re upset…” Ivar snorted and shook his head. “Upset? It that was this is?” He glanced up at Björn and sniffed. He pointed at his brother. “Was this your idea? It was his idea wasn’t it.” Ragnar smiled grimly and shook his head. “It was not your brother’s idea. It wasn’t even my idea but I think this is a good thing.” 

 

Ivar snorted shook his head. “A good thing? How is this a good thing? Don’t I get a say in this? What if I don’t want to marry her?” Ragnar’s smile only worked to irritate Ivar more than he already was. It was as if his own father was mocking him. He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. It was wicked and vile and Ragnar’s smile began to fade. “I could kill her, did you think of that?”

 

Ragnar dropped his hands to the desk and clucked his tongue. “You won’t. She’s too much like you.” Ivar narrowed his eyes as his father opened the drawer to his right and pulled out a file folder. He flipped it open and Ivar could see a small photograph clipped to the inside cover of the folder. From what he could see, it was a young woman. She had long dark hair that appeared to be some shade of red or dark brown. She wasn’t smiling in the picture. 

 

“Transferred out of three boarding schools before she was 17, allegations of assault, intimidation, theft, stalking.” Ragnar glanced up at Ivar and couldn’t help the smugness that went through him at his son's contemplative look. “None of this could be proven but her father had her moved each time. Feared legal repercussions, I’m assuming.”

 

Ragnar flipped through the pages and hummed. “She’s smart. Graduated from Oxford Summa Cum Laude with degrees in International Business and Public Relations. Sounds like she’s been running her father’s company since she came home. Obviously, because he’s been very irresponsible with their money.” 

 

Ragnar closed the file and watched Ivar. He had his left hand on his mouth and was stroking his bottom lip slowly. He blinked and looked at his father. “Why me?” Ragnar sighed and sat back in his chair. Björn shifted his weight and glanced between Ivar and Ragnar. Ragnar cleared his throat. “Aside from the fact that you’re the only one of your brother’s who is unmarried…” Ragnar took a long pause and rapped his knuckles against the desk. 

 

“There have been some recent grumblings among my men. Conversations about my control of this organization.” Ivar’s eyes tightened at the corners and his lips thinned out. “Specifically my control over you.” Ivar sat up straighter in his seat and cleared his throat. “So we’ll kill them. Then they won’t question your control.” 

 

Ragnar’s smile was dark and he nodded. “Unfortunately, we can’t kill everyone who questions me. Then we wouldn’t have an organization to control. No, Ivar, it has to be you because people are questioning my ability to control  _ you _ . Your unpredictability and savagery has made people fear us, that is true, however, it has also made people question my control over your actions.

 

“It is no secret that you are largely able to do as you please but people have started to notice. They have begun wondering if it is because I allow it or if it’s because I have no command over you. This decision will not only gain us power and wealth but it will tell our allies that you follow my command. You obey my decisions and that I have control.”

 

Ivar seethed from across the desk, his teeth clenching hard. Ragnar smiled at his youngest son. He truly felt that this would work out in their favor. He had a good feeling about Aaline Jensen. She had a fire, a passion that would quell his sons worst qualities. She would be good for Ivar.

 

“You will do this for me, my son. I am your father and you are my son. She will be here in two days time so I suggest you prepare yourself.” Ragnar stood and left the study with Bjorn effectively ending the conversation. Ivar sat and glared at the flames crackling in the fireplace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Price of Your Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline meet for the first time.

_ “Turn the pain into power” _

_ ~ “Superheroes”, The Script _

 

Her heels clicked on the stone entryway as she was led into the house. There was a long staircase in front of her with burgundy carpet on mahogany stairs. It led up to an open landing with hallways branching off on each side. 

 

On both sides of her there were high white archways that led into larger rooms. The one on her left held a long dining room table that was set for fourteen. The lights were off and she didn’t hear any sounds of cooking or smell anything so she didn’t think there was actually going to be dinner. On the right side was a sitting room with two leather couches and a coffee table. There was a stout bouquet of yellow roses on the table and an array of magazines fanned out for aesthetic purposes. 

 

A fire burned in the fireplace. It was been purely for show because it was June. Aaline rolled her eyes and stopped in the middle of the foyer, waiting for her escort to bring down her betrothed. She rolled her eyes again and heaved a deep sigh. 

 

Her heart was pounding and the blood was rushing in her ears. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself not to be nervous, she was. She couldn’t get rid of the overwhelming feeling of dread settling in her stomach. 

 

Two days ago, her father had sent her the dossière he had on Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons. There were brief documents on each son, regardless of it was the one she was marrying. Each son possessed the piercing eyes of Ragnar Lothbrok and each son stood over six feet. She would be look minuscule next to her husband and she was considered tall for a woman. 

 

The last document was the one that had her heart racing. Out of all Ragnar Lothbrok’s five sons only one was unmarried.

 

Björn was the oldest and in his forties. He had been married to his wife Torvi for nearly twenty years and they had four children together. Ubbe was second and he had married his wife Margrethe almost six years ago. Hvitserk was third and his wife was Thora. They were newly weds having been married for less than a year. Sigurd was the fourth son of Ragnar and he had been married to his wife Sibylle for three years. 

 

Ivar Lothbrok was the youngest son of Ragnar at twenty-five. He was to be Aaline’s husband. 

 

She took a shaky breath and pressed her hand to her chest.

 

They called him Ivar the Boneless because when he was a child he was diagnosed with DDH and it wasn’t treated until he was a toddler. He maintained a noticeable limp throughout his childhood until he started boxing. Then the name took on a new meaning. 

 

The rumor mill was filled with stories of Ivar’s fighting skills. They said when he was in the ring he moved like the wind over water, fluid and full of grace. It looked like he was dancing with his opponent. He would bend and twist in a way that looked almost unnatural, ergo, Ivar the Boneless.

 

What made Aaline nervous was his reputation within the organization. It was well known that Ragnar essentially let his youngest son roam free. Ivar didn’t have restrictions so whenever he felt like he’d been wronged, someone would end up dead. Ivar was the kind of person to act first, ask questions later. He didn’t care why people did what they did, if it offended him or his family,  they were taken care of.

 

Aaline had a feeling their marriage had something to do with Ivar’s control issues. 

 

She turned when she heard a sudden gaggle of voices coming towards her. Five beautiful women were making their way down the long staircase. Each one of them stood about as tall as Aaline and had their hair styled in intricate braids that flowed down their backs in complicated loops and whirls. They ranged in age. One woman appeared to be in her fifties or sixties while the rest looked no older than twenty-five or thirty. All five were striking.

 

Aaline plastered on her best smile and waited to greet them. The oldest woman approached her first. She raised her hand between them and smiled. “You must be Aaline. I’m Lagertha Lothbrok. I work for Ragnar.” Aaline nodded.

 

Lagertha was an imposing figure. She had been Ragnar’s first wife and ten years later she had risen in the ranks of her own chapter of The Northmen and now served as Ragnar’s right hand. She was second to only Ragnar’s brother Rollo. 

 

The next woman who came up had long white blonde hair that was braided at her temples and tied together at the base of her head. “I’m Torvi, Björn’s wife. It’s nice to meet you.” 

 

Each woman stepped up and shook Aaline’s hand in kind. Margrethe’s shake was a little limp and she seemed to be hesitant to greet Aaline. Thora was energetic and alight with hope when she introduced herself to Aaline. Sibylle was sweet and kissed her on each cheek when she introduced herself. Aaline was a little thrown but took it in stride and squeezed her hand when Sibylle pulled back. 

 

Lagertha stepped forward almost immediately after introductions. “Aaline, why don’t you let us show you around the house. The men are… working. They’ll be down shortly.” Aaline narrowed her eyes but let the lie rest. With Ivar’s lack of control she figured his father and brother’s were working on getting him calm enough to interact with her. She thought about her own anger and betrayal at the announcement of her wedding and thought Ivar’s anger must’ve far outshined her own.

 

The house was lavish. Even calling it a house was an understatement. It had fourteen bedrooms, seven of which were occupied by the family. Björn and Torvi had their own home a block up the street but a bedroom was reserved for them for special occasions. The rest of the brothers and their wives lived in the house with Ragnar. Lagertha had a room to herself though she rarely stayed there. She told Aaline that she had a penthouse apartment five minutes away and only used her bedroom here for long business nights. 

 

Each family bedroom had a full bath and walk in closets. There were three and a half extra baths for guests if they had any. Lagertha told her that the only people outside of the family who stayed the night with them was Ragnar’s best friends Floki and Athelstan. 

 

The upstairs portion of the house was reserved for living quarters. Bedrooms and bathrooms mostly. Downstairs was the entertainment and business side of the house. There were four offices that the family used. Ragnar claimed one for himself and the brother’s shared the other three. There were three full sized kitchens and two dining rooms. Aaline recalled the one in the front of the house and wondered where the other was.

 

Lagertha took her down another set of stairs, this one not as ornate as the main set, that led to the basement. This room was outfitted into a full functioning gym. There were multiple treadmills and various weight machines. There was a punching bag in the far corner and two flat screen TVs bolted to the walls. Speakers were hooked up to each corner at the ceiling. What really stole Aaline’s breath was the complete boxing ring set up in the middle of the gym. 

 

When she was sixteen she began learning how to defend herself. She took classes on basic defense and how to incapacitate an attacker but it never felt good enough. Then she took a boxing class and a whole new world opened up for her. She signed up for one-on-one classes the next day and never went back.

 

She didn’t box for sport. She wasn’t really into violence as a form of entertainment but she loved the training. She loved the way it made her feel. There was power in her hands. Real strength and damage. No one would ever take advantage of her again. Boxing made her stronger.          

 

Lagertha must’ve noticed her captivation with the ring. She smiled and came up beside her, hooking her arms over the ropes. “My son, Björn, got into boxing when he was younger. He eventually moved into kickboxing but the other boys enjoy boxing as well. Ivar’s the only one who ever competed.” Aaline moved her hands off the ropes and stepped back. She took a deep breath and took a glance around the room. “Is this it for the tour?”

 

Lagertha followed her lead and stepped back as well, shaking her head. “No, there’s a library upstairs towards the back of the house and a wine cellar beneath the swimming pool.” Aaline’s eyebrows shot up and Lagertha laughed. “It’s hard to believe but Ragnar has an appreciation for wine. I think Aslaug was the one who introduced it to him and he never looked back. He even has his own vineyard. It does very well.” 

 

Lagertha held her arm out towards the stairs, ending their perusal of the gym. Somewhere along the way, the other women had returned to the front room where they had first met Aaline. They all looked slightly nervous and Aaline quickly figured out it had something to do with the group of men standing at the top of the stairs. 

 

She took a deep breath and watched as they came down the stairs. She had a good idea of who was who based on which wife they went to. Björn greeted Torvi before making his way to Aaline. He extended his hand and she took it. The ends of his fingers nearly met his thumb, he was so much larger than her. She smiled tightly and nodded at him. He dropped her hand. 

 

“Aaline. My name is Björn Lothbrok. You’ve met my wife, Torvi. Ragnar regrets that he couldn’t be here tonight but…” Björn looked over at his mother and nodded. Lagertha brushed her hand down Aaline’s arm as she passed and then she was gone, leaving Aaline alone with the sons of Ragnar and their wives. “But there was some unexpected business that came up and could not be ignored so we told him we would be more than happy to get you settled.”

 

Björn turned to the side to sweep his arm out to the group standing to his left. “You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting our lovely wives. I am Björn.” He walked her over to the rest of the group and they collectively began to walk towards the back of the house. Aaline had a feeling that her betrothed refused come down to greet her so they were bringing her to him. She was instantly on edge due to this uneven footing they’d unintentionally placed her on.

 

“Each of us has a specific position within Ragnar’s house. Ultimately, we work for The Northmen organization but Ragnar does have his own business ventures connected to The Northmen. He has a vineyard, a winery, a few restaurants across the country, he owns several docks in the state for shipping purposes both foreign and domestic. He is a board member of several other companies and has holdings all across the country. ” He glanced down at her as they made their way passed the library. “I am in charge of trade both foreign and domestic.”

 

He looked back to the others and nodded at each one as he introduced them. “This is Ubbe. He has a Master’s Degree in Accounting and is in charge of the finances for the organization.” Ubbe smiled at her when she looked at him. He had his hand resting on the small of Margrethe’s back as they walked.

 

“Hvitserk handles the legal issues. He was always interested in the legal system so Ragnar put him in charge of all the legal issues of our chapter of the organization after he got a law degree.” Hvitserk gave her a respectful nod when she looked back at him. He was holding Thora’s hand and she was whispering in his ear. He smiled at his wife and brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a tender kiss against her knuckles. 

 

Aaline felt a pang in her chest knowing that kind of love would never exist between her and Ivar. With his reputation and her walls, they would be lucky if there was even friendship between them. They were both difficult and hard to know. If he was as reticent as her, they would struggle to find peace as a couple.

 

She brought her attention back to Björn as he introduced the next brother. “Sigurd is in charge of public relations. He deals mostly with Ragnar’s more...reputable businesses. He typically organizes social functions and makes any announcements regarding the business.” Sigurd had his arm wrapped around Sibylle’s waist and smiled tersely. Sibylle noticed and placed a hand on Sigurd’s shoulder. 

 

Aaline nodded at Björn when he stopped them at the double doors of whatever room Ivar was hiding in. She made to open the door when Björn placed a hand on her shoulder. The look she gave him was sharp and he removed his hand. He jerked his head to the door. “I’ll go in first. Ivar is...difficult.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Difficult is an understatement.” She said. Björn tilted his head to the side and looked almost amused. “To say the least. Anyway,” He glanced at his brothers. Hvitserk nodded and released Thora.

 

“We’ll go in first.” Björn gestured forward and Hvitserk led Ubbe and Sigurd into the room. She instantly heard muted voices behind the door. Björn gave her a tight smile before glancing at his wife. Torvi nodded once and he took a deep breath before heading into the room. The voices increased in volume but Aaline still couldn’t make out what they were saying. Torvi stood on her right side and Sibylle stood to her left. She felt hands on her arms and she shook them off. She didn’t care if she hurt their feelings. She needed to walk in without support, showing Ivar that she wasn’t afraid. 

 

The door opened and Hvitserk nodded at her. She turned her head to face Torvi. “If you don’t mind. I’d rather walk in alone.” Torvi glanced at Hvitserk and hesitated. Aaline ignored her and turned to the door, striding in with a confidence she didn’t feel.

 

Ivar was arguing with Sigurd, whispering harshly, gesturing with his hands. Sigurd looked smug as he listened to him rant. Björn was standing in front of the fireplace, watching it’s flames dance. He had an empty glass in his hands. Aaline felt Hvitserk brush passed her, his hand on her shoulder. He stopped just in front of her and cleared his throat. 

 

All three of them turned to face Hvitserk and Ivar. Ivar sneered at them and shuffled over to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink. Björn turned and tensed, glancing from Ivar to Aaline. Sigurd cleared his throat and looked at Aaline. She didn’t like what she saw in his eyes but she let him continue. 

 

“Ivar, I’d like you to meet Aaline Jensen, your fiance.” Ivar and Aaline both tensed. Aaline watched Ivar’s back as he took several deep breaths. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly several times as he tried to gain control of himself. 

 

Aaline felt her nails digging into the palms of her hands. It was a sharp pain that distracted her from the pounding of her heart in her ears. She could feel a tingling sensation in her limbs and her hands were cold. She held her head high and waited. 

 

Ivar whirled around and glared at her. His eyes were piercing and she felt it to her bones. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and swaggered towards her. She forced herself to stand tall and still. Movement would be a sign of intimidation. He stopped in front of her, only a few inches separating them. He trailed his eyes over her, making sure to go slow. She felt heat rise to her cheek and her fists clenched even harder. 

 

He brought them back up to her face and grinned. It was malicious and dark, filled with hatred and resentment. He took a drink and swallowed before smacking his teeth and smirking. “At least you’re pretty.” He sniffed and met her eyes.

 

Her face was flushed and he knew that part of it was because of his blatant perusal of her figure earlier. He wasn’t wrong in his statement. She was pretty. In all honesty, pretty was an understatement. She was breathtaking. Her eyes were hard and yet betrayed her emotions. They were swimming with apprehension and fear but she was standing tall in front of him. Her chin was held high and her shoulders were pushed back and she met his eyes without flinching. Grown men had trouble doing that. She was tall and he could see the physical strength in her limbs. She took care of herself which he admired. Her hair shined in the dim lighting and she had it pulled back away from her face. A few strands framed her face elegantly. The shadows from the fire made her face look angular and thin. The flames glimmered in her eyes and they shined with pride.  

 

His laugh was mirthless as he drained his drink. He set it on the edge of Ragnar’s desk and met her eyes. Aaline took her own time to trail her eyes over his figure. He was tall like the rest of his brothers but she could see how he hunched over slightly and shifted his weight from side to side. She knew it was most likely due to his physical ailments but power radiated off of him like  heat from a furnace. His hair was shaved close on the sides and combed back away from his face. It was long in the back so he tied it in a knot at the base of his head. 

 

He was pleasant to look at, she had to give him that. It was probably one of his only redeeming qualities. 

 

She took a deep breath and met his eyes, refusing to be the first to speak. 

 

Ivar clicked his tongue and gave her a crooked grin. It was not meant to be reassuring. He raised his hand and stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek. He was surprisingly gentle as he did it. He trailed his hand down her cheek and then her arm, leaving goosebumps as he went. He never broke eye contact with her and leaned forward, his warm breath ghosting over her face. She could smell the whiskey on his breath when he spoke. 

 

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.” He gripped her wrist suddenly and it was just tight enough to feel threatening. Her fight or flight instincts kicking in, Aaline reached for the letter opener she saw on the desk and pressed the point underneath Ivar’s jaw. His eyes never widened and his touch never loosened but his mouth fell open and his grin widened. 

 

She could taste the tension in the room it was so thick. All of the other brothers were on their toes, waiting for Ivar to react. In the corner of her eye, Aaline could see the women huddled at the door, nervous. She held Ivar’s eyes and waited. 

 

He tilted his head down just enough so that she knew he acknowledged her threat. She felt the tip of the letter opener punch through the soft skin underneath his jaw and he smirked. She narrowed her eyes and pressed harder, getting his attention. 

 

“If you touch me again, without my permission, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you. Do you understand?” She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. She could see his eyes narrow and scan her face to see if she was serious. She pressed deeper into his skin and he twitched. She felt a keen sense of victory but kept her face blank. “Do you understand?” She asked again. She was going to make him say it. 

 

His smile was slow as it crept across his face. He released her wrist and held his hands up placatingly. She didn’t remove her weapon from his person and his smile fell. She was going to make him say it. He couldn’t help the approval that welled up in his chest at her actions. At least he wasn’t marrying a coward or a weakling. She knew how to defend herself and wasn’t afraid to put him in his place. He hated to admit it but he was impressed.

 

“I understand, Ms. Jensen.” She swallowed thickly at his formal address but dropped the letter opener back on the desk. She looked him up and down, a little stunned that he’d answered her. He was smart, she knew that, but clearly he was also confident enough to not be too annoyed that a woman had just threatened his manhood. She didn’t like the feeling that came over her then. It was too good. 

 

She glanced at Björn and he gave her a tense nod. She looked once more at Ivar before turning towards the doors. Torvi smiled at her nervously. She stopped when she heard his voice again. “I stand by my earlier statement, love. We’re going to have fun together.” She took a deep breath through her nose to try to settle her racing heart but gave up and walked back to Torvi’s frantic presence. 

 

Somewhere deep inside she felt that Ivar Lothbrok was onto something.


	4. Where Do We Begin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline moves. Ivar ignores Björn's attempts to discuss the wedding.

_ “The beginning is the most important part of the work.” _

~ _ Plato _

 

Aaline watched as the last box was carried out of what used to be her front door. She surveyed the space that was her living room and felt significantly smaller than she had a moment before. The high ceilings seemed darker now that her paintings and pillows were gone.

 

She had been living in the penthouse suite since she’d moved home from Oxford two years ago. It was a graduation gift from her father. He’d built the apartment complex four years before and used the penthouse as a coming home gift as well as a way to make amends for the things he hadn’t been around for. She’d had the freedom to decorate how she wanted and she used rich reds and yellows to paint the walls.

 

He still owned the building. Well, technically she owned it now. It was just yesterday that she met with her father to sign over the company. Hvitserk had accompanied her as the legal representation for Ragnar and her father had his own attorney present. He had tried to speak to her about matters outside of their business deal but she pointedly ignored him. Hvitserk tried to move everything along quickly but her father must’ve spoken to his lawyer before the meeting because he made things as tedious as possible. 

 

They finally concluded their business after nearly three hours of discussion. Everything that was once owned by her father was now in her name. His shares, his buildings, his accounts, his company. Everything belonged to her. He was a member of the board in name only. He had no power over the company and any decisions that were made in its name. She agreed to give him a monthly stipend of twenty thousand dollars, five thousand a week, which was more than enough to support him. What he did with that money was his business. She would give him no more, no less. That was the only contact they would have for the rest of his life. 

 

He tried to speak to her as they left but Hvitserk must’ve picked up on her mood and politely stepped between them as she made her way out. Ives Jensen was not easily deterred and managed to make the elevator. Hvitserk gave her an apologetic look but she ignored him. “Aaline, would you please say something?” She didn’t acknowledge him and instead watched the numbers change as they descended. 

 

“How many times must I apologize?” Hvitserk snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough. Aaline rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re my only child. I was trying to protect you.” Aaline brought her gaze down to the reflective silver doors and looked at her father. She watched him until she heard the  _ ding  _ that announced their arrival. The doors were opening when she finally spoke. “You didn’t do this for me.” She didn’t wait to see it Hvitserk was following her.

 

She had gone back to her apartment knowing that Ragnar’s private moving company would be there in the morning to take her personal possessions back to the estate. 

 

She had decided to leave the basic furniture in the apartment and just take her personal items. Lagertha had told her that she could stay in one of the guest rooms until the wedding. It went unspoken that she and Ivar wouldn’t be made to share a room following their wedding ceremony. She would be moving into one of the guest rooms close to Ivar’s room. She ignored the reasons for that. 

 

The moving company arrived at eight am that morning and was surprised by the number of things she wasn’t taking with her. She told them she was renting the penthouse out so she was leaving the furniture behind. They didn’t ask any questions and began moving boxes. Torvi, Sibylle, and Thora arrived shortly after and Ubbe dropped Margrethe off on his way to work. The four women were there mainly for moral support but Aaline could see them whispering together when they thought she wasn’t looking.

 

It was almost ten and the movers had taken her last box. She stood with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the apartment. It felt cold now that she couldn’t see her presence in the walls anymore. 

 

She startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and smiled at Sibylle. “The truck is loaded and ready to go. There’s a car here for us if you’d like to get brunch with us?” She phrased it as a question like she thought Aaline would say no. 

 

Aaline had never had a lot of friends growing up but she needed to find someone to latch on to during this process. The next several months weren’t going to be easy for her and this group of women had more knowledge of this organization than she would ever hope for. She needed them not only as a line of information but as friends. 

 

She figured out a long time ago that she didn’t do well on her own. When left to her own devices, people got hurt. She didn’t like the person that she was when she was alone. She needed people to care about, people to love. She needed a reason behind her anger and she felt that these women could be that for her. She could love them. Maybe it would lessen the blow of a loveless marriage. 

 

She smiled and nodded, letting Sibylle lead her out the door. Aaline balked when she saw that they were riding in a limousine. “A limo?” She questioned. Sibylle laughed and opened the door. Torvi poked her head out of the door and smiled. “Come on you two! I’m starved!” Aaline sighed and followed Sibylle inside the car.

 

Thora had already opened a bottle of champagne and handed a flute to Aaline. She smiled and took a tentative sip. She saw Torvi glance at the other women before turning her body to face Aaline. She turned her eyes to the older woman and waited. She clearly had something on her mind.

 

“Aaline, we know this can’t be easy for you but, the four of us, we wanted you to know that we’re here for you. Whatever you need.” Aaline felt her throat get tight and swallowed several times. “I appreciate that.” She nodded and took a bigger sip of her champagne. The bubbles burned her throat but she sniffed and blinked the tears away. Torvi placed a gentle hand on her knew and Aaline had to tamp down her reflexes to pull away. 

 

Thora leaned forward then and waited for Aaline to meet her eyes. “We know how this family can be and we’ve all struggled with something at one time or another. It’s normal to be overwhelmed in this family.” Aaline snorted and shook her head. The car was silent for several minutes. Aaline knew they were expecting her to speak but she didn’t know where to start. She swallowed thickly and opened her mouth.

 

“I spent most of my childhood alone. I still had the cliche dream of marrying someone that I love and having this perfect wedding. As I got older I thought about it less and less but I always thought I’d marry someone for love.” She finished her champagne and laughed humorlessly. “I guess that’s one more dream I can give up on.” The other women gave her looks of confusion but didn’t say anything. 

 

“This might not be the best time but…” Thora started rifling through her purse and Aaline tensed when she saw a black box emerge from its depths. She looked up at Aaline and blushed at her incredulous look. She passed the velvet box to Torvi. “I know this is supposed to come from Ivar but...to say he hasn’t been receptive is an understatement so...we,” she gestured to the other women around her. Aaline looked apprehensively at the box resting in Torvi’s hands. “Decided that maybe we could do this for you. We wanted to find something elegant and simple but also stunning.” 

 

Aaline took the box with shaky fingers and pulled it open. Inside there were two rings nestled together. One was a row of seven small teardrop diamonds arching in a clean line. The second ring was a large oval diamond on a simple gold band. 

 

“The larger stone is the wedding ring that Iv...that you’ll get on the day of. The small stones will be your engagement ring. We figured you could wear it to all the appointments.” Thora wrung her hands together nervously as she watched Aaline stare at the rings. Aaline gently pulled the first ring out of the box and, with shaking fingers, slipped it on her ring finger. She took a deep breath and looked at it on her hand. She could almost believe that she was happy.

 

She closed the box on the other ring and smiled tightly at the other women. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Torvi smiled and rested her hand on Aaline’s knee. “We just want to make this transition easier for you. Ivar is difficult but he’s not all bad.” Margrethe snorted into her champagne flute and Aaline turned accusing eyes towards her. The other women didn’t seem to think too much of the outburst either. “Margrethe.” Sibylle scolded. Margrethe just tilted her head and kept her mouth shut. 

 

Aaline may have had her own opinions about Ivar but for someone else to blatantly insult him when he wasn’t there rankled her. 

 

One of her biggest irritants was people who talked badly about others behind their backs. She felt that honesty was the best way to go through life and for Margrethe to overtly display her dislike for Ivar in front of Aaline was bold. 

 

Sibylle turned back to Aaline. “Ivar is a complicated man. There are many layers to him.” Aaline nodded and looked out the window. She watched as the buildings passed by. 

 

Everything was a blur. She prided herself on her ability to get through tough situations. This situation, however, had no end in sight. She was going to have to spend the rest of her life with Ivar Lothbrok. At least the rest of her father’s life. She couldn’t imagine Ragnar would take to kindly to her divorcing his son during her father’s lifetime. Probably ever, if she was honest with herself. 

 

She drew her eyebrows together when they passed the exit for the estate. She turned to look at the other women and none of them would meet her eyes. Sibylle looked guilty and Aaline felt a ball of dread grow in her stomach. “We passed the exit for the house.” She said. Torvi glanced at her sisters and, when none of them made a move to speak, she cleared her throat. 

 

“Ragnar’s men know what to do. Lagertha is going to make sure everything gets where it needs to go. We need to start wedding preparations.” Aaline never wished more for a mother. She would have a confidant who could field these situations. Someone she knew that she could lean on right now. 

 

The Lothbrok women were wonderful. They’d been very welcoming and were working hard to make things easy on her but, in the end, she didn’t know them. They were strangers who were loyal to their husbands. They had no ties to her other than the fact that she would one day be a part of their family. They owed her nothing. 

 

Aaline sighed heavily and looked up at Torvi. She’d pulled out an iPad and was scrolling through it. She looked up when she heard Aaline sigh. She smiled and it was filled with pity. Aaline felt the irritation rising in her chest but she held her tongue. Of course, Torvi would pity her. She was marrying her brother-in-law whose reputation was widely regarded as difficult and violent. Anyone would pity her.

 

She took a deep breath and tried to smile. She was sure it looked more like a grimace. “What’s first?” 

 

.

 

The gun jerked in his hands and he lowered it when he knew the clip was empty. He narrowed his eyes when the target came towards him. He tugged the headphones from his ears and draped them around his neck. He smiled when he saw the holes spaced close together at the head and chest. He tugged it down and set it aside, putting up another target. He shoved a fresh clip into his gun and took aim. 

 

He lowered his hands when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder and sneered at Ubbe. His brother simply smiled and jerked his head over to the side. Ivar cleared his chamber and engaged the safety, slipping the piece back into its holster at the small of his back. He followed Ubbe towards the rest of his brothers at the entrance of the range.

 

Björn was finishing his conversation on the phone while Hvitserk and Sigurd spoke in hushed voices nearby. Hvitserk nodded to them as they approached and Ivar heard Björn say goodbye and hang up. He turned and looked up at them, sighing heavily. His shoulders were tense and Ivar could see the lines of tension by his mouth and eyes. He gestured his brothers closer and they huddled in a tight circle. 

 

“That was Lagertha. They discovered which dock was hit.” Bjorn took a deep breath like he was bracing himself. “It was Kattegat.”

 

Ivar sucked in a sharp breath. Kattegat was their busiest, legal shipping dock. Both foreign and domestic trade come out of the dock. The hit this would bring to their organization, both legal and illegal, would be great.

 

The night that Ivar and Aaline met, the damage to the dock was what pulled Ragnar away from the meeting. Ragnar had gotten a call that there was smoke coming from one of the warehouses that was on the dock. By the time Ragnar and Lagertha had arrived, dozens of shipping containers were burning and billows of smoke were rising up over the dock. 

 

“The damage has been tallied and we lost three million dollars worth of foreign goods and, roughly, two million worth of domestic product.” Ubbe cursed and Ivar watched Björn rub at his temples. “Do we know who’s responsible?” Hvitserk asked. Björn looked up and nodded, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Aelle, the head of the Northumbria chapter of The Saxons.” Ivar tensed and felt the heat rise up in his face. 

 

Ever since his mother died the relationship between The Northmen and The Saxon’s had been shaky at best. Ecbert and Aelle claimed they knew nothing of Aslaug’s death but Ivar didn’t trust a Saxon as far as he could throw them. Aelle and Ecbert had made a deal with Ragnar before Aslaug’s death and the grounds it stood on had been precarious from the start. As soon as Aslaug died, any trust or deals between the two groups disintegrated and any hope of them finding new common ground died with Aslaug. 

 

“How do we know it was Aelle?” Ubbe asked. Björn opened his phone and scrolled through it. Ivar saw him open up his pictures and pull up the most recent shot. He turned it around and showed his brothers. Ivar felt his blood rush and his fingers tingle. The adrenaline that raced through his veins was intoxicating. A vindictive smile graced his face and he moved the phone closer to his face. 

 

It was of a man. An older man with dark hair and a dark beard. He was sitting on the ground with his hands behind his back. His eyes were filled with a scornful fire and his upper lip was pulled up in a snarl. There was blood and dirt on his face and neck and Ivar could see other dead Saxon’s strewn behind him. He had the same eyes as Aelle. 

 

“Aethelwulf?” Hvitserk asked as he took the phone from Björn and held it between him and Sigurd. “Did he organize it?” Björn snorted and shook his head, taking his phone back. “Of course not. Aelle’s the brains behind everything. This was his idea. Aethelwulf has always done his brother’s bidding. He reaps the benefits without any of the fallout.”

 

Ivar licked his lips. “Now he’s ours.” Bjorn nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “We’re holding him at Hedeby until Ragnar decides what to do with him.” Bjorn jerked his head towards Ivar. “We need to talk about your wedding.” Ivar scowled and pulled his headphones back over his ears. He turned towards the range but jerked back when someone pulled his headphones from his head.

 

“Don’t touch me.” He snarled. Ubbe held his hands up, Ivar’s headphones clenched in his first. “It’s unavoidable, Ivar. There are things we need to discuss.” Björn continued. Ivar turned his back on his oldest brother and pulled his gun from its holster. “There’s nothing to discuss, brother.” 

 

He turned to face Björn, his gun aimed at the target. “The women are handling it. I’ll be there on the day of, like the good son I am.” He sneered and fired one shot. “Then, I’ll take her, like the good husband that I am.” He fired another shot, never breaking eye contact with Björn. “Whether she’s alive the next morning, well…” He shrugged and turned back to the target, emptying his clip.

 

Björn scoffed and stalked up to Ivar. He stood in front of him, chest to chest, and spoke. “You won’t kill her. Do you know why? Because father has arranged this deal with her father. We benefit greatly from this deal. We get money, property, shares, and land. That’s more than what we would’ve gotten had Ragnar just killed her father and been done with it. 

 

“As much as this pisses you off, you know as much I as I do that this is a good arrangement. You have her file. Why don’t you read it? Maybe you’ll learn something about her that you actually like.” Ivar glared up at his oldest brother.

 

Ivar loved all his brothers, he did, but he hardly ever liked them. Björn was the golden boy. He did everything Ragnar ever wanted or expected him to do. He figured it came with being the oldest and losing his sister at a young age. Björn never wanted to disappoint Ragnar and made it is own personal mission that the rest of them didn’t either. 

 

Ivar had no plans to kill his future wife. He liked the color it brought to Björn’s face when he threatened to but he knew how important this business deal was for his father. He would marry her, like the dutiful son he was, no matter how angry this lack of free will made him. They would be married in name only. If Ragnar wanted grandchildren, he would have to look to the other four sons that the gods had gifted him for a blessing like that.

 

“I don’t think you’re nearly as angry about this as she is,” Hvitserk interjected. Ivar and Björn both turned to look at him. 

 

Hvitserk smiled and shrugged. “Out of all of us, I’ve spent the most time with her thus far. I had to spend three hours in a room with her and her father to legalize the transfer of all of his assets in her name. She wouldn’t even look at him.” 

 

Ivar quirked an eyebrow. He could admit to himself that he was angry with his father but they had a relationship built on much more than their business ventures. Ragnar loved all of his sons and always tried to do what was best for them. He had never been wrong and Ivar, begrudgingly, admitted to himself that Ragnar was probably right in his assumption that this marriage would be good for them.

 

He had spent very little time with his fiance to know her true feelings on the subject.

 

Hvitserk continued. “His lawyer kept trying to extend the meeting to include some rather ridiculous clauses and legal options but she was having none of it. Her father managed to slip onto the same elevator as us and kept trying to talk to her. The only thing she ever said to him was a response to his plea that he was trying to protect her.” Hvitserk snorted and shook his head. “She said, ‘You didn’t do this for me.’ and then walked out.” 

 

Ivar digested that information. He may not have been happy with the arrangement but at least he knew that Ragnar would never put himself before his children. Ragnar had always made sure to tell his sons that he would die for them and nearly had on more than one occasion. In the case of his fiance, however, it looked like her father was willing to throw her to the proverbial wolves to keep his head on his shoulders.


	5. Alone With All That's On My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline reflects on wedding preparations. Ivar has a chat with Aethelwulf.

_ “And in the end, all I learned was how to be strong alone.” _

 

Aaline slumped back against the door to her new room. She closed her eyes and took several calming deep breaths. She willed the ache in her eyes to go away. An unfortunate side effect of her inability to cry in public. She’d gotten very good at keeping her tears at bay. From a young age, she felt that tears made her look weak and fragile when, in reality, she was neither of these things. She had never been weak or fragile so she never cried in public. In the comfort of her own home, that was another thing entirely. 

 

She felt a few tears trail down her temples but that was all she would let escape. Crying didn’t help her situation. 

 

She tossed her purse onto the side table by her door and surveyed the room in front of her. She made a mental note to thank Lagertha the next time she saw her. 

 

The boxes that she’d packed were arranged in neat piles around the room. Boxes labeled books were on the far wall closest to the bookshelf. Boxes labeled clothes were pushed towards the walk-in closet and the dresser beside her private bathroom. Her bedspread had been unpacked and the bed made. Her throw pillows had been placed artfully across the head of the bed. Her paintings and framed photographs were settled along the back wall, waiting for her to hang them.

 

In the bathroom, her accessories had been placed neatly on the counter, ready for her to store them. Some fresh towels were sitting on the edge of the counter for her to use. Aaline debated for a few seconds before she reached inside the shower and adjusted the temperature. She stripped and stepped inside, relaxing almost instantly as the warm water rushed over her aching back and temples.

 

Today had been emotionally trying for Aaline. First, she had moved all of her things from the penthouse she’d considered her home for more than two years. Then, instead of being able to supervise the move-in process, her future sisters-in-law took her around the city to start planning her wedding. 

 

Ragnar Lothbrok was a powerful man and had made it clear to his daughters-in-law that he wanted the wedding to happen sooner rather than later. Torvi had told her that the ceremony and reception would all take place at the Lothbrok Estate as well as the engagement party and rehearsal dinner. 

 

The first place they had gone was to a bakery downtown that specialized in large events. Torvi had asked Aaline what she wanted but she couldn’t give her an answer. As much as she wanted to decide everything, a small part of her wondered about Ivar. What did he like? What would he want? What kind of colors did he wear? 

 

Torvi had started making decisions for her when Aaline shook her thoughts away and interrupted her. “Black and white.” Torvi stopped and looked over at Aaline. She could feel the eyes of the other women on her back but she kept her face blank. “I want a black and white and red color scheme.” Torvi’s smile was slow as it stretched across her face but she nodded. 

 

“We’ll have five tiers on the cake. Make it chocolate on the inside with white frosting and…” She glanced at Aaline who finished the instruction. “Red accent design and red roses.” Torvi nodded with approval and they continued down the line, ordering red velvet, chocolate, and vanilla cupcakes. 

 

Their second stop was to the florist. Aaline took charge of this trip. She was very particular when it came to her flowers. 

 

She had always been a fan of roses. They had become her signature in school, specifically black roses.

 

She chose red and white roses to be the decorations for the ceremony. They would adorn the end of each row of seats and red and white petals would scatter the aisle. Her bridesmaids, which would consist of her four future sisters-in-law, would carry red roses as their bouquets. She herself would carry black roses. Torvi had given her a curious look when she declared that but said nothing. 

 

At the reception, black, white, and red roses would decorate the tables in sporadic order. Red rose petals would decorate the food tables as well as the dance floor. Aaline was proud of herself for being able to take charge of the situation.

 

Her whole life she’d made it a point to not worry about things she couldn’t control. Her marriage to Ivar “the Boneless” was one of those things. She could control the wedding itself. She could control the food, the decor, the arrangement, the dresses, the colors, everything. Any amount of control she could exert over the situation would help her anxiety. 

 

The last stop for the day had been the dress boutique. Aaline had grown nervous when they pulled up in front of the shop. She had never considered herself a sentimental person but a small part of her saw herself wearing her mother’s dress to her own wedding. She didn’t bring that up as an option, though. She didn’t feel that this particular circumstance was worthy enough of her mother’s dress. 

 

Torvi had let her take her time. She would have to thank her profusely later because Torvi truly had the patience of a saint. 

 

They had walked inside and the attendant immediately started doting on all five women. Sibylle had leaned over to her and whispered conspiratorily. “Lagertha owns this boutique. She has a soft spot for weddings and bought out the original owner when they retired.” Aaline nodded and let the attendant lead her to a back wall of their most designer dresses. 

 

She had been unsure at first. She didn’t know what kind of style looked good on her and she wasn’t even sure where to start. Thora was quick to rescue her. “Do you prefer form-fitting dresses or do you like the idea of a ball gown type dress?” She must’ve made a face because Thora laughed and pulled her further down the aisle. “So, no Cinderella dresses than. Okay, what about a mermaid dress?”

 

Aaline tried on what felt like hundreds of dresses. Mermaid, sheath, A-line, short, even a few ballgowns. Each one was different and yet each one felt wrong. 

 

Sibylle could tell that Aaline was unhappy and came up beside her. “Close your eyes.” Aaline looked at her with apprehension but Sibylle was kind and waited. She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. “Picture yourself on the morning of your wedding to someone you love.” Aaline tensed when Sibylle began to speak but played along. “What are you wearing?” Aaline clenched her eyes shut and took a deep breath. 

 

“A white dress that’s fitted but flares out at the bottom. Elegant, with sheer sleeves and lace, lots of lace. There are flowers in my hair and diamonds all down the lines of my dress. It’s heavy but not unbearably so. I feel beautiful.” She opened her eyes and blushed at the faint smiles surrounding her. The attendant cleared her throat and Aaline looked at the dress she held up.

 

They left the boutique with the promise that the dress would be ready in three weeks. Aaline had also picked out the color of the bridesmaid’s dresses. She always liked the idea of the same color of dresses but different styles and the women had been all too happy to embrace her choice. The dresses were going to be a dark red color and each dress would be a different style per woman.

 

Torvi had called it a day following their dress extravaganza. She had been cagey when Aaline asked her about the actual date of the wedding so Aaline decided to quiz her later. 

 

She stepped out of the shower and pressed one of the towels to her face, breathing in its freshness. She glanced up when she heard her phone start to vibrate. She grimaced when she saw her father’s name appear.

 

He had been calling her all day and each time she’d let it go to voicemail. The sooner he realized that she was serious about never speaking to him again, the better off they both would be. 

 

.

 

The screams died down as Ivar stepped away from the man suspended in front of him. He admired the runes carved into his back. From a young age, Ivar had always been interested in the Norse runes that decorated his father’s skin. He especially liked the way they looked when he carved them into the skin of his enemies.

 

He walked over to the table that held his instruments and set down the scalpel. He could hear Aethelwulf whimpering and smiled. “You are very strong, Aethelwulf. A weaker man would’ve broken a long time ago.” He turned his head to look at the bloody man in the middle of the warehouse. “I admire that about you.”

 

Ragnar had placed him in one of the warehouses in Hedeby that they didn’t use anymore. He was fed and watered regularly and allowed to go to the bathroom three times a day. Ragnar had originally wanted to talk to him like men did, face to face, pleasantly. Ivar had no such desires but let his father try. When Aethelwulf had spit in Ragnar’s face, well, even Ragnar didn’t let disrespect like that go unpunished. He gave Aethelwulf to Ivar and told him to find out what he knew.

 

That was two days ago and Aethelwulf still hadn’t talked. 

 

Ivar had unburdened him of a few of his teeth, two fingers, a few toes, and some of the skin at the small of his back. Usually, the most hardened individuals talked after losing a few appendages but not Aethelwulf. He was painfully quiet. 

 

Ivar circled around and stared up at him. There were tear tracks that streaked through the blood on Aethelwulf’s face. His shoulders rose and fell quickly as he sucked in air. 

 

The way he was strung up made breathing difficult. His feet barely brushed the ground and his arms were tied out like a Y, forcing him to lift his body up every time he wanted to take a breath.

 

Ivar smirked up at him and hummed. “Why did Aelle attack Kattegat? What was the point?” Ivar lazily stroked the handle of the blade he held. Aethelwulf continued to suck in air as if he’d just resurfaced from beneath a deep pool. Ivar’s face was alight with joy as new tears coursed down Aethelwulf’s face.

 

“We were doing so well, Aethelwulf. Your brother and my father had come to an understanding. They were working on a treaty, sharing land, wealth. What did Aelle get out of attacking Kattegat?” He started to circle Aethelwulf, making sporadic slices along his back and sides as he went. “Ragnar lost millions of dollars through this attack but how does that affect Aelle? He didn’t lose money but he also didn’t gain money. Is this about territory?”

 

Ivar stopped when he saw a quick twitch in Aethelwulf’s face. He came around to Aethelwulf’s front and grinned like the madman he was. “It’s territory thing, isn’t it?” Ivar looked away and tapped the flat side of the blade against his palm, beaming. “Aelle wants his land back.”

 

Years before Ivar was born, Ragnar had arranged a deal with Aelle. Aelle gave Ragnar properties throughout the city in exchange for the end of Northmen raids. Ragnar’s men had been sacking stores and stealing from Aelle for years so Ragnar and Aelle eventually came to an agreement and Ragnar got new properties. Part of the property eventually became Kattegat and Ragnar’s annual income went up while Aelle’s remained steady. Ivar figured Aelle was bitter over Ragnar’s success and wanted to take Kattegat as revenge. 

 

“He wants revenge, doesn’t he?” Ivar turned to look up at Aethelwulf who was glaring steadily at him. Ivar started laughing and stepped closer to Aethelwulf. “He wants to take back what used to be his. He wants to get rid of Ragnar and take Kattegat for himself.” Ivar huffed and placed his hands on either side of Aethelwulf’s face. “Thank you, Aethelwulf. You’ve been a big help. Now,” He twirled the knife between his fingers and placed the blade at the edge of Aethelwuf’s mouth. “Let’s get a closer look at those pearly whites of yours.”


	6. Sell My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline meets Ragnar. Aelle makes a deal with Ecbert.

_ “Trust is a dangerous game.” _

 

Ecbert sat with his hands pressed together and held against his lips. He watched Aelle with inscrutable eyes and contemplated his plea. 

 

Aelle had been rash, attacking Kattegat. The peace brokered between Ragnar Lothbrok and his Northmen was tenuous at best but it had held steady since the death of his wife seven years before. Ecbert had worked hard to keep Ragnar Lothbrok at bay. He was a formidable enemy and the Saxon organization had suffered enough at his hands.

 

Aelle’s attack on Kattegat was foolish and had cost him. Yes, Ragnar Lothbrok suffered considerable financial damage, however, he made enough annually that it would be easy for him to recover the nearly five million dollars that he’d lost in Aelle’s attack. If anything, Aelle lost more than Ragnar. 

 

The attack itself had been rash but Aelle decided to send his brother Aethelwulf in as the lead on the attack. Many Saxon men died and Aethelwulf was missing. Ecbert was confident that Ragnar Lothbrok had him locked up somewhere to use as a bargaining chip. If Aelle was lucky, they would just leave him locked up but, if Ragnar did was Ecbert thought he would do, then, Aethelwulf was most likely in the hands of Ragnar’s most brutal and unpredictable son. 

 

Ecbert was well aware of Ivar Lothbrok’s reputation. It was well earned, after all. The rumors that surrounded Ivar “the Boneless” were intriguing. Ecbert had been witness to some of Ivar’s fights when he was a teenager. It was true that he appeared to dance inside the ring. If you looked close enough, it looked like he was moving and bending in ways that were impossible for the human body. His childhood nickname of “The Boneless” took on a whole new meaning. 

 

Ecbert had heard whispers among his men of what Ivar Lothbrok was capable of. He was merciless when provoked. Fighting in the boxing ring was one thing but, when attacked, Ivar was ferocious. He stopped at nothing to get what he wanted or right whatever wrong he felt had been dealt against him. He was insane and yet, Ecbert had to admire the fierce loyalty that he maintained. He’d never turned his back on his family and Ecbert could only dream of such blind loyalty. His own son, coincidentally also named Aethelwulf, was loyal to a point. 

 

Ecbert’s men liked to talk. They spoke mostly of Ragnar’s sons and their devotion to their father and his cause. They spoke of Björn’s impenetrable fighting style. How he was untouchable and no man could mark him. They spoke of Ubbe and Hvitserk and Sigurd and how each brother fought with abandon, unafraid of death. 

 

They mostly spoke of Ivar. A demon, they called him, with black eyes full of malicious intent. A smile that dripped of sin and waved you off as he sent you to meet your maker. They spoke of how his teeth dripped red with the blood of his enemies. The most popular claim was that he would take men home, still alive, and flay the skin from their bones before eating it raw. 

 

Ecbert was not one to believe in rumors. He did not doubt that the youngest son of Ragnar Lothbrok was as savage as his men claimed but he very much doubted that he was a cannibal or a demon, for that matter. He was just a man and men had weaknesses.

 

“What is it you think I can do for you, Aelle?” Ecbert folded his hands and sat back in his chair. Aelle heaved a great sigh and shifted his girth in his chair. The legs creaked ominously beneath him and Ecbert arched an eyebrow, waiting. “I propose that we come together. My men and your men, as a single unit, would be too much for Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons.” 

 

Ecbert nodded in thought before he sat up. “I was not the one who attacked Ragnar Lothbrok. My brother is not the one currently behind enemy lines, probably being tortured for information. Ragnar Lothbrok is not after me. Why should I help you and break the peace that I have with Ragnar Lothbrok?”

 

Aelle looked irritated but must’ve been expecting the argument. He opened his mouth to continue. “It is no secret that the peace between you and Lothbrok has been unstable since the sudden death of his wife which,” Aelle held his hand up to keep Ecbert from interrupting. “We both know had nothing to do with either of us. It was an unfortunate tragedy, yes, but neither of us was wise to the plot.

 

“All the same, Ragnar has not trusted us since that unfortunate incident and has steadily been trying to push us out. He’s slowly bought out our clients, our storefronts. Just last week he made a deal with one of the top construction companies in the nation and is now a member of its board. He’s trying to get rid of us as quietly as possible.”

 

Ecbert narrowed his eyes and looked away from Aelle. He had had similar thoughts within the last few weeks. Lothbrok’s reach was getting too long. He was beginning to control more territory that Ecbert and Aelle combined. Soon enough, he would have control of everything Ecbert held dear. 

 

He turned back to Aelle. “What kind of deal did he make?” Aelle’s smile widened and he leaned forward. “Ives Jensen was indebted to Lothbrok, owed him millions of dollars that he couldn’t pay back. Now, Ives’ only child is a daughter that he sent away after the death of her mother. Ragnar has five sons, all of whom are extremely devoted to their father, do whatever he asks. 

 

“Now, Ives is a coward. He hasn’t been running his company since his daughter graduated from Oxford. Ragnar has four sons that are already married and one son that is rumored to be uncontrollable.”

 

Ecbert began to understand what kind of deal Ragnar Lothbrok had made. “These rumors have been hurting Ragnar’s reputation. His own men have begun to discuss his inability to control Ivar and how it may be time for him to step down. Of course, this is unacceptable so, when Lothbrok goes to kill Ives Jensen and take back his money, Ives does what all cowards do and offers someone else in his place.” Aelle’s voice was quiet like he was sharing a secret. Ecbert couldn’t help but smile as he listened. 

 

“Ives offers his daughter as a wife for Ivar. He’ll hand over his company, his assets, everything to his daughter and, as an extension, Ragnar, in exchange for his life.” Aelle sat back, happy with the tale he just told. 

 

“This is something that Ragnar cannot possibly pass up. One of the nations largest construction companies, virtual control over it, millions of dollars in revenue, and exhibiting his control over his youngest son. It works out wonderfully in his favor and gives him control of properties that have been in our territory for years.”

 

Ecbert took a deep breath and licked his lips. He looked over at Aelle. “Well, if Ragnar Lothbrok can make deals of marriage, why can’t we?” Aelle looked contemplative as Ecbert leaned forward, his hands pressed tightly against the desktop. “I have a son, you have a daughter. Let’s discuss our options.”

 

.

 

Aaline crept lightly down the stairs. The house was quiet and dark. Everyone else was asleep and Aaline didn’t want to wake them. 

 

It was after three in the morning and Aaline was heading to the kitchen. She had trouble getting to sleep so she decided to venture down to one of the kitchens and make herself something to eat. 

 

She remembered as a child waking up in the middle of the night and going in search of her mother. She would always find her in the kitchen with a tall glass of milk filled with crushed Oreos that she would dig out with a spoon. It was heavy with sugar and numbed Aaline’s mouth with the cold. She remembered giggling wildly with her mother during those late night snacks. It was one of the only memories she had of her mother before she died. 

 

Aaline pulled the milk from the fridge and the Oreos from the cupboard. She poured herself and tall glass and then crumbled up each cookie individually before she dropped them into her glass. She closed her eyes as she took the first bite. It had been a long time since she’d last enjoyed this special treat. She hadn’t done it since college and the flood of memories brought tears to her eyes. 

 

In the back of her mind, she wondered if she and Ivar might ever share memories like this. She felt despair settle in her stomach at the thoughts and shook them away. She would be lucky if Ivar was tolerable. 

 

She placed her dirty glass in the sink and made her way back around to the staircase and up to her room. On her way, she heard a soft rustling from the sitting room in the back of the house. She turned to investigate and saw a soft light coming from down the hall. She slowly made her way towards it and stopped in the doorway. 

 

She’d seen enough pictures of Ragnar Lothbrok to know that he was sitting before her now. He had a newspaper from today, well, technically yesterday, unfolded in his hands. He had a pair of reading glasses pushed far down the end of his nose. He was bald but with a thick beard that obscured the lower half of his face. His face was lined with the experiences afforded to a man his age. The lines around his eyes trailed down his cheeks. There was a long scar on his right cheek that curved around his eye and up his forehead. She could tell, even from the doorway, that Ivar got his eyes from his father. They both held the same secrets and the same pain. Ivar’s eyes were cold where Ragnar’s were warm. 

 

What surprised Aaline most about Ragnar’s appearance were the tattoos on either side of his head. They touched at his temples and spanned the space of his head, trailing down around his ears and disappearing into the collar of his shirt at his neck. 

 

She was surprised that a businessman like Ragnar would adorn himself with such obvious ink but she recalled where he started in life and it made sense. 

 

He began his career as a businessman at the bottom of the totem pole. A lowly foot soldier taking orders from the man on top. He did the bidding of Earl Haraldson, the man that Ragnar would one day replace. 

 

As a foot soldier, Ragnar tattooed his victories on his skin. They told the story of his strength and his independence. They told anyone who looked at them how he overcame Earl Haraldson for control of Kattegat and, eventually, the Northmen. 

 

“You are welcome to join me, Miss Jensen. There is another seat.” Aaline startled and blushed fiercely at being caught staring. She shuffled forward and sat on the edge of the chair next to Ragnar. He smiled at her and closed his paper, handing her an empty glass. She took it, confused, and watched as Ragnar unscrewed a flask and poured her two finger worth of whiskey. She smiled and took a careful sniff. Ragnar laughed when she burst into a coughing fit. 

 

“My apologies. Floki makes his own whiskey and it is very potent.” She nodded and set the glass down, deciding to leave it untouched. Ragnar shuffled his paper and went back to reading. 

 

Aaline felt awkward, sitting in the dark with a man she barely knew. She opened her mouth to speak but Ragnar beat her to it. “We have not been formally introduced.” He folded his paper and set it down on his lap. “I am Ragnar Lothbrok.” He held his hand out for her to shake. “Aaline Jensen.” She whispered. 

 

He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners and she found she liked the way it changed his face. “It is nice to finally meet you, Aaline Jensen. I have heard a lot about you.” She tensed and nodded once, looking away from him. She heard him hum. “I imagine it is hard for you, being here, alone, knowing no one.” 

 

There was an accent present in his voice. It was thick but he enunciated well, spoke clearly. She imagined a man like Ragnar Lothbrok was not stupid by any means. He had to be clever in order to get to where he is now. 

 

She turned to look at him. “I’m adjusting.” She said. He nodded, looking over her face. “The girls are lovely, very welcoming.” She nodded and looked down at her hands. “At one time, they were all in your shoes. New to this world, the challenges of marrying a Lothbrok.” She snorted and he quirked an eyebrow.

 

She sighed. “No offense, Mr. Lothbrok,” He cut her off. “Call me Ragnar, please.” She hesitated but nodded and continued. “No offense, Ragnar, but I don’t think any of the other women who married into this family did so under duress.” Ragnar smiled and nodded, humming his agreement. “No, I don’t believe they did.”

 

She looked at him and watched as he breathed deeply. “You remind me of my daughter, Gyda. She had a fire about her. She would not be told what to do. She followed her own path, made her own decisions.” Aaline drew her eyebrows together. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

 

Ragnar looked sad then and nodded slowly. “She died, many years ago.” Aaline closed her eyes and shook her head. Losing her mother had been hard on her but she couldn’t imagine losing a child. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been very difficult for you.” Ragnar grunted.

 

“There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for her. She was the light of my life.” Aaline felt tears burn her eyes and wished that her father held her in the same regard that Ragnar did his daughter. Her father had said a lot of pretty things to her but never had he displayed his affection in a way that meant anything.                  

 

“I love my sons, dearly. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for them.” She looked up at him then and his gaze was focused on her entirely. She felt trapped beneath his eyes. “But their wives, my new daughters, in all of them I see Gyda. I am reminded of how easily life can be taken and I vowed to protect them as I would my own daughter.” 

 

He picked up his own glass of whiskey and took a long drink. He placed it back down and smiled at her. “I know that this is not what you want. It is not what Ivar wants, either. I imagine none of us ever thought this would be a path life would lead us down but, alas, we are here.” He shifted in his seat to face her fully, his eyes still locking her in place. “I want you to know, as much as you may not believe it now, you will always be protected under this house. You are my daughter now and you will always be safe here.”

 

Aaline swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. She wanted to speak, say anything to Ragnar Lothbrok but the lump in her throat was too thick and any words that she tried to force would lead her to tears. Ragnar must’ve sensed it because he tipped his head to her and gestured to the door.

 

“It is late, child. Go back to bed. There are many things to do in the morning.”


	7. My Tongue Is A Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ragnar makes Ivar and Aaline sit down to dinner with the family. It doesn't go well.

_ “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” _

_ ~Joseph Campbell _

 

Aaline sat on the edge of her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror but not really seeing. She had done her full makeup and put on one of her nicer dresses. She had her pearl earrings in and her hair was done up in elegant curls. She had never looked better and yet she felt so empty.

 

Ragnar had called the family to dinner. He said they needed to sit down as a family to discuss the upcoming nuptials and that everyone needed to get to know Aaline. On the outside, she looked calm and composed but on the inside, she felt as if she was rattling the bars on a cage she’d been locked in.   

 

She blinked when she heard a knock on her door. “Come in.” Torvi poked her head in and smiled at her. She stepped inside and whistled low. “Don’t you look beautiful.” Aaline gave her a good-natured smile and stood up. She stepped inside her closet and pulled out classic black pumps. Torvi followed and leaned against the door jamb. Aaline sat on the round chaise in the middle of her closet and slipped her heels into her shoes.

 

“Is there anything I should be wary of?” She asked. Torvi gave her a tense smile and rubbed her hands together. “Well, Ivar will be pricklier than a porcupine.” Aaline snorted and stood up, passing Torvi on her way. “He’ll likely try to say things to irritate you, offend you.” 

 

Aaline sat back at her vanity and made sure her makeup was pristine. Really she was just trying to put off this dinner. She knew nothing good could really come from tonight. She may as well just suck it up and get it over with.

 

“I anticipated that. Is there anything that could surprise me?” Torvi shifted and knotted her fingers together. “Sigurd and Ivar don’t get along. Sigurd will probably say something to offend Ivar and Ivar will get pissed and say something back and there might be some screaming and one or both of them will definitely storm away from the table.” Torvi shrugged and met Aaline’s eyes in the mirror. 

 

Aaline heaved a sigh and pushed back from her vanity. She stood and nodded once at Torvi. “Might as well get it over with.” Torvi nodded once and led Aaline from the room.

 

When they reached the dining room, Aaline could see everyone else was there already. Ragnar was in the corner speaking to Lagertha in hushed tones. Sigurd and Sibylle were already sitting at the table, facing each other and smiling. Ubbe was sitting and had his head buried in his phone while Margrethe swirled her finger around the rim of her wine glass. Björn and Hvitserk were leaning close together in their seats having, what looked like, a serious conversation. Thora was sitting on Hvitserk’s other side while Torvi took a seat next to Björn. Ivar was sitting next to his father and Ubbe while there was an empty seat on Ragnar’s other side and next to Torvi. Lagertha and Ragnar each had one end of the table. 

 

Aaline glanced over at Ivar before taking a seat across from him. He was staring at her but he didn’t look angry. He just seemed to be looking at her. Aaline took that time to let her eyes roam over him.

 

He was wearing a simple gray v-neck sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He was curling and uncurling his fingers into fists against the table and Aaline could see the muscles in his forearms jump when he did. From the stories she’d heard, she knew that the strength in his arms was unmatched. Years of getting around using his arms had given him an advantage other men couldn’t hope of gaining even through years of strength training. 

 

She looked up and stood in a flurry of motion when Ragnar came around and raised his glass. The others stood as well and everyone came to the table. Ragnar smiled at each person individually before he began to speak. “Thank you all for coming to dinner tonight. With recent events, I think it’s important that we come together as a unit and work towards strengthening old bonds and creating new ones.” He raised his glass in a toast and everyone followed suit. “Skol.” Aaline nodded and took a long drink from her glass.

 

Everyone sat back down and soon enough the food was brought out by a line of cooks and staff members. One of them came around behind Aaline and placed a classic white bowl in front of her. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, tonight we begin with a lovely spinach salad with brussel sprouts and a creamy lemon sauce. For our entrees, we will be serving seared scallops with brown butter and lemon pan sauce and we’ll finish off with a dessert of chocolate clementine torte.” A tall man took a single step back into the corner of the dining room and held his head high.  

 

Ragnar nodded once and saluted the man and the staff with his glass. “Thank you, everyone.” Once the staff left, Ragnar gestured to the food with his hands. “Shall we eat?”

 

Dinner was a quiet affair with stilted and awkward conversations. Aaline answered the questions that were asked and smiled at everyone. Ivar was silent through most of the dinner. He seemed almost passive. He let his brothers and father lead the conversation and pushed his food around his plate. Aaline almost envied him. At least he wasn’t the main subject of discussion. 

 

“So, Aaline where did you go to school?” Lagertha asked. They had made it all the way through the entree without anyone asking about school and Aaline was surprised. She placed her fork down on her plate and folded her hands in her lap. “I attended various boarding schools growing up and double majored in International Business and Public Relations at Oxford before moving back home.” 

 

Ivar snorted and Aaline looked at him. She had to force herself to sit still and not flinch away from the hostility in his eyes. “Various boarding schools?” Hvitserk turned the conversation back on topic, smiling towards Aaline. She nodded once and cleared her throat. “Yes. It was difficult for me to make friends. School was a struggle.” 

 

“What? Did daddy not give you enough money?” Ivar said. Aaline looked over at him and forced the fire in her chest back down. She would be the bigger person no matter how much she wanted to lash out. “No, nothing like that.” She turned back to her food but Ivar continued. “The other kids didn’t like you? Made you cry?” He was taunting her. The cruelty in his voice was obvious. 

 

Ragnar tensed and glared at his youngest son. Lagertha’s jaw was tense and her knuckles white against her silverware. Ivar’s brothers were either glaring at him or consciously avoiding their eyes.

 

Aaline narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head slightly to one side. Ivar grinned and seemed to take it as a challenge. “I didn't like them. I made  _ them _ cry.” His grin widened and she felt a sense of pride swell in her chest. She shook it off and turned to Ragnar when he spoke. “International business and public relations. Why did you choose that path?” He smiled at her, trying to take the conversation from Ivar. 

 

“My mother. She dealt with the foreign side of my father’s company. I took over once I came of age.”  

 

“Ah, where’s mommy now? Did she leave you when things got rough with daddy?” Ivar snorted. His tone was mocking. 

 

“Ivar.” Ragnar scolded. He was staring hard at his youngest son who was making it a point to not look at his father.  

 

Aaline glared at him and straightened in her seat. She met his stare full on and felt the corner of her mouth turn up. “No, she’s dead.” She saw the corner of his eye twitch and the smile dim on his face but he kept his gaze locked on hers. 

 

The table sat in tense silence until Björn spoke. “So, Aaline, are you adjusting alright?” Aaline tensed and saw Ivar whip his head around to glare at his brother, his knuckles turning white against his grip on his silverware. Aaline appreciated Björn’s attempt at distraction but it was a poor attempt at best.

 

She cleared her throat and nodded. “It’s alright. It has its challenges.” Ivar snorted and shook his head, looking down at his plate of half touched food. Aaline glanced at him from the corner of her eye but stayed quiet.

 

Everyone seemed content to leave the conversation as it was and focus on dessert. Aaline was grateful. It was exhausting maintaining her composure. All she wanted to do was scream at the top of her lungs. The injustice of her situation was ridiculously unfair. She learned a long time ago that life was unfair all around but she sincerely felt like she’d been given a bad lot following this revelation.

 

Marriage had always been something she’d imagined for herself but she figured she’d get to at least choose who she got to marry. Specifically someone she’d been seeing regularly for some time before the actual event of proposal and marriage. Maybe she’d even love them. Either way, this was not the way she always imagined she’d prepare for her wedding. 

 

Dessert was quiet and Aaline was relieved to think that she would escape back to her room with no more stilted and tense conversation. She wasn’t sure if Margrethe was trying to be nice or trying to make her non-existent relationship with Ivar more strained but whatever her motive, she didn’t do anyone any good when she asked her next question. 

 

“Are you ready for the wedding?” There was a clatter as Ivar dropped his silverware down onto his plate. He brought his hand up to his mouth and Aaline could see the hard grip he had on his face as he reigned in his anger. Ubbe was glaring at the side of his wife’s head as if he was trying to will time to rewind so he could stop the question from ever leaving her mouth. Aaline saw Sibylle look over at her with apprehension but Aaline was too busy watching Ivar to spare her a look. 

 

Aaline swallowed and almost coughed at how dry her throat suddenly seemed to be. She took a large sip of her wine and cleared her throat, looking over at Margrethe. 

 

The other woman seemed to not be aware of the tension she caused. She was staring with kind eyes at Aaline. Aaline nodded once. “As ready as someone in this situation can be.” Her voice was soft as it carried across the table. It seemed to echo in the silence that followed. “And what situation is that, Aaline?” 

 

She snapped her eyes to Ivar. It was the first time he’d called her by name and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. His eyes were filled with something that Aaline didn’t recognize but it sent chills down her spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The sense of dread that settled in her stomach made her feel as if the dinner she’d just consumed was about to crawl back up her throat. She never wanted to see this look directed at her again.

 

Ragnar was glaring hard at his son, his jaw clenched hard enough to be painful. Björn was shaking his head with wide eyes while Hvitserk and Ubbe just stared at Ivar. 

 

Aaline didn’t have a response for him but he didn’t seem to want one. “They call us heathens, you know. The Saxons.” His eyes were harsh. He wanted to get a rise out of her. He wanted her to be afraid or angry. He wanted some kind of reaction. She wasn’t going to give him one. “We don’t follow the same gods so, not only are we personal rivals, but we don’t align religiously either.”

 

He sat forward and braced his forearms on the table, staring at her from under his brow. “So, do you mean the situation of marrying a heathen or maybe a cripple?” There was a sharp intake of breath from Ragnar and Björn huffed, shaking his head. 

 

Aaline drew her eyebrows together, confused. She knew about Ivar’s medical issues as a child. His DDH had been diagnosed significantly late in his toddler years and he’d had casts and corrective surgery to fix it. He’d maintained a noticeable limp throughout his childhood until he started boxing. The limo was nearly gone into his later years but then he’d been diagnosed with inflammatory arthritis of the hip. What little Aaline knew of his kind of arthritis caused him pain and made it difficult for him to walk but she wouldn’t go so far as to call him a cripple. If that was how he saw himself then he had deeper self-esteem issues than she thought. 

 

She took a deep breath and shook her head, angry at his assumptions of her. “I was referring more to the fact that this is an arranged marriage but feel free to think what you’d like, Ivar.” Aaline could see the small smile gracing Ragnar’s face as he looked down at his plate. Björn had a satisfied smirk on his face and Hvitserk started laughing. Ivar sat back in his seat and just stared at her. 

 

Lagertha sighed and placed her hands in her lap. “I know this is difficult but we need to try to move forward, make the best of this.” Aaline felt a small sense of relief at Lagertha’s statement. She turned her head towards the end of the table when Sigurd snorted. 

 

Out of all of them, Sigurd was the only one who had continued to eat through all the awkward conversations. At one point or another, every person had stopped eating because the anxiety at the table had shrunk their appetites. Sigurd had never stopped eating. The agitation at the table seemed to slide off his back like water on oil. 

 

“It’s already difficult, Lagertha. Things will be impossible when they’re actually married.” Sibylle leaned close to her husband and rested a hand on his upper arm, whispering against his ear. He shook his head and continued to dissect his dessert, ignoring her. Aaline heard Ragnar take a deep breath and release hit harshly. Ivar was white-knuckling the table and staring straight ahead, looking through her.

 

“Sigurd now is not the time,” Ragnar growled. Aaline could hear the threat come from somewhere deep in his chest, the rumble reverberating across the table. Sigurd shrugged and looked down at his father. The smile on his face was anything but kind. Aaline wasn’t sure if he was trying to scare her or anger his brother. Either way, he seemed to be succeeding at both. “Why not? She’s going to marry him, she should know that he won’t be able to please her.” 

 

Aaline’s eyes widened and she looked at Ivar. His hand had moved to grip his knife in a bruising hold. He was breathing hard and he looked like he was shaking. His face was red with anger and she could hear the growl rumbling in his chest. 

 

“Sigurd, enough.” Aaline looked down to Ubbe when he spoke and was confused. He was scowling at Sigurd, his hand resting on Margrethe’s leg. Margrethe was staring at the table, her hands clasped tightly together and her face pale. She looked back to Ivar as Sigurd continued to speak. 

 

“Wouldn’t you want to know if your wife could please you, Ubbe? Aaline has the right to know that Ivar can’t get it up.” She jumped in her seat when Ivar slammed the tip of his knife down into the table, embedding it deep into the wood. 

 

“Both of you enough!” Ragnar roared. 

 

Ivar was breathing heavily and stared down at the table top before turning his head to glare at his brother. Sigurd had a satisfied smirk on his face as he continued to ingest his dessert. Sibylle looked mortified as she took a long drink of her water.

 

Ivar stood and swallowed thickly before stalking from the room. Aaline stared at the space that he used to occupy, keeping her eyes away from anyone trying to catch her attention. She calculated what motivations Sigurd had for humiliating his brother the way he did. Torvi had told her of the animosity between the two but she failed to explain how deep it truly ran. If Sigurd was willing to insult his brother in the presence of his family then he clearly had a deep loathing for Ivar. 

 

Ragnar was glaring at his son while Sigurd pointedly ignored both his father and his wife. “Please, forgive them, Aaline. They forget their manners.” He said. No sooner had he spoken, a muffled crash from further inside the house. The crashing continued and Aaline saw Hvitserk flinch and then stand, adjusting the buttons of his jacket before disappearing. 

 

Aaline looked up at Ragnar, her face unreadable. “It’s alright but,” She pushed back from the table. “I seem to have lost my appetite. If you’ll excuse me.” She stood up and brushed invisible crumbs off her dress. She turned away from the table and ignore Lagertha’s calls of her name and Sibylle’s pleas to return. She kept her eyes straight ahead as she ascended up the stairs and back towards her room. Her thoughts were a whirlwind.

 

.

 

Ivar lay with his hands behind his head, staring up at his ceiling. It was late, early hours of the morning and he couldn’t sleep. The events of dinner were coursing through his mind, keeping him up. 

 

He and Sigurd had never gotten along. Ivar accepted the fact that Aslaug had paid him more attention than his siblings growing up. His health problems as a child had kept his mother occupied and she neglected her other duties as a mother. He admitted that his mother was far from perfect but his father’s frequent absences throughout his and his brother’s childhood made it difficult for them all. Aslaug did her best but her attention had been mostly focused on Ivar growing up and Sigurd, more often than not, got the shaft. 

 

Ubbe and Hvitserk were old enough by the time Ivar came around that they understood Aslaug’s preoccupation with Ivar. Sigurd, however, struggled with Aslaug’s inattention to him and took it out on Ivar. 

 

Both of them had short tempers and dark dispositions so they clashed often. Ivar didn’t like to admit it but he had some deep-seated insecurities. His health problems prevented him from being involved in school. His various doctor’s appointments and surgeries made making friends hard and his hip pain made most sports impossible. He felt largely isolated at school and Sigurd’s verbal abuse didn’t help. He liked to tell Ivar that he was worthless. Nobody wanted to be his friend because he was the weak Lothbrok. He was a cripple and nobody wanted to associate with a cripple. If anything, they’d only ever pity him. 

 

Hvitserk and Ubbe worked hard to combat Sigurd’s abuse. They reminded Ivar at every turn that he wasn’t a cripple. He could walk and he could move around and that didn’t make him a cripple. His oldest brothers were kind and considerate and made sure to assure him often that there was nothing wrong with him. 

 

When Ivar was fifteen, his half-brother, Björn moved back home following his military career and took a place alongside their father in his business dealings. Björn had started boxing when he was a child following his sister’s death and this hobby morphed into kickboxing which helped his military career exponentially. When Björn moved back home, he grew closer to his younger brothers through their shared interest in the sport. 

 

Being so much older than his brothers, Björn used boxing as a way to connect with his siblings. He taught them stances and moves and quickly built relationships with all of them. He was closest to Ubbe and Hvitserk being but he and Ivar were in good standing.

 

Ivar sighed and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. He gazed at the clock on his nightstand and cringed at the early morning hours. At this rate, he wasn’t going to get any sleep. He heaved himself up off the bed and headed towards his door, slipping his Nikes on as he went. 

 

Boxing always helped him relieve stress. It helped him focus and clear his mind of everything that brought him anxiety. His fiance was the current focus of his anxiety.

 

She was a beautiful woman. He admitted to himself that he was taken aback by her beauty the first time he saw her. She faced him without fear though he knew she had to be just as apprehensive about their meeting as he was. His unease manifested itself in anger and provocation while hers was more subdued. She stood her ground and refused to rise to his bating. It was only when he touched her that she acted. 

 

He had to admit that her aggression turned him on. When she pressed the letter opener against his skin, the rush of want and lust that swept through him nearly bowled him over. Her approach also set something off in the back of his mind. His unwanted advances put her on edge enough so that she lashed out physically. There was a story there and he wanted to know what it was. 

 

When he reached the gym, he was surprised to see the lights on a steady rhythm pumping from the speakers. He stepped around the doorway and stopped dead. His little fiance was just full of surprises, apparently. 

 

The punching bag that was set up in the middle of the room was being thoroughly pummeled. Aaline was dripping in sweat and her hair swayed behind her violently. She had a look of deep concentration on her face and Ivar got the distinct feeling that she was down here for much of the same reasons as him. 

 

As much as she represented his own lack of choice in this situation, he imagined she felt more betrayed then he did. It was her father that had come up with the idea of marriage. Ragnar was prepared to just kill Ives Jensen and be done with it but Ives was a coward and was willing to throw his daughter to the proverbial wolves to save his own skin. He imagined the rage and resentment inside her was enough to drive anyone to madness and here she was, releasing her frustrations on a solitary punching bag.

 

“How long have you been boxing?” Aaline caught the bag as it came back to her and looked over at the door. A wave of tension rose up in her chest when she saw her fiance. He was the reason she came down to the gym. 

 

She had been ruminating on what had happened a dinner and found sleeping difficult. She decided to take advantage of the late hour and monopolize the in-home gym. She didn’t think anyone else would be awake to disturb her. Clearly, she was wrong. 

 

“I didn’t think anyone else was awake.” She said. Ivar shrugged and stepped closer. “Couldn’t sleep. So?” She blinked at him and shook herself. He had asked her a question. “About seven years.” He nodded and bit his bottom lip, searching her face. 

 

Aaline felt her face get hot and she looked away. He was dressed far more casually then Aaline had ever seen him. He had on tennis shoes, running shorts, and an old white t-shirt that hugged his frame. She could make out the lines of his shoulders and chest through his shirt and she was never more aware of how finely built he was. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He snapped his head up to her at her apology. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure what exactly she was apologizing for but he let her do it anyway. He nodded his acceptance and looked away. The air between them was awkward and Ivar couldn’t stand it. 

 

“Sigurd makes it a habit to try to say things to get to me, so, don’t let it get to you. Hvitserk tells me just to ignore him but I’ve never been very good at that.” Aaline gave him a small smile and he felt a sense of victory well up in his chest. 

 

Aaline looked down at her hands and picked at the wrapping between her fingers. She didn’t really know what to say to him. She knew that her foreseeable future would be much more bearable if she and Ivar at least tried to be friends. Maybe if she made the suggestion, he would agree with her. 

 

“Look,” She stopped when his sharp eyes cut across to her. They always held an intensity that stopped the breath in her lungs. She could see why he was so intimidating to be around. His eyes alone froze people in their tracks. She cleared her throat and started again. “Look, I know that this is not an ideal situation for either one of us but, I figured since we don’t really have a choice, maybe life would be a little bearable if we tried to be friends.” 

 

She couldn’t look at him as she talked. She was too afraid of what she might see in his eyes if she did. The silence that followed her statement was only broken by the soft melody of her playlist in the background. She could barely hear it over the pounding of her heart. 

 

She glanced up when she heard him sign and felt an acute sense of relief when he nodded. “I agree. We’ve been put in an unimaginable position and, as much as I know we both detest it, our marriage will be easier if we’re friends, at least.”

 

Aaline flinched slightly when he mentioned marriage but he wasn’t wrong. She turned back slightly to her punching bag. “Do want to stay? I could use a partner.” She didn’t look at him when she offered but a smile graced her lips when he came around to face her and nodded. “I’d like that.”


	8. Take A Good Thing and Fuck It All Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline's engagement party puts stress on their already tenuous relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I started writing this story, I pictured it taking place somewhere in the U.S., since that's where I live. Somewhere like Chicago or New York, you know, where there's a heavy mafia presence. Anyway, as I wrote, I kept hearing them in their accents from the show and it's harder and harder to picture them in America so I just decided that they'll be where ever you want them to be.

_ “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars.” ~ Khalil Gibran _

 

Aaline had been living comfortably in the Lothbrok estate for two months. She had adjusted to living among so many people fairly easily. Every morning around seven she would have breakfast with Sibylle and Thora. Margrethe was not a morning person and elected to sleep in most days. Aaline learned that she used to work for Ragnar but, following her marriage to Ubbe, she stopped working and spent most of her days sunbathing or shopping. Aaline had her own opinions about Margrethe’s behavior but said nothing.

 

Once breakfast was done, all three women would head off in their own cars, with a driver per Ragnar’s insistence, towards their respective offices. Thora worked closely with Hvitserk. She was studying for her own degree in law and worked as a sort of intern for Hvitserk’s firm. 

 

Sibylle worked in Björn’s office. She spoke multiple languages and had a degree in Cultural Studies. She functioned as a translator for several of their international clients. 

 

Aaline still worked in her old office downtown as head of Jensen Construction. Just because Ragnar owned 51% of the shares, Aaline still owned the name. Ragnar now had a significant amount of power in her company but she was still CEO. She tried not to let Ragnar’s control affect her business. 

 

She would work in her office from 7:30 to 12:30 and then she would take lunch with Lagertha and Torvi. These lunches functioned not only as get-to-know-yous but they also served as a way for Torvi and Lagertha to plan the wedding.

 

Aaline had attended dozens of lunches with Lagertha and Torvi and they had yet to tell her what the incident at that fateful dinner was all about. Every time she brought it up, they would go strangely silent and shift the conversation back towards wedding plans. Aaline didn’t feel comfortable enough to push either one of them so she always let it go but she was beginning to get frustrated. 

 

It was the night of her engagement party and Sibylle was helping her get ready. 

 

She truly liked all the daughters of Ragnar, as he liked to call them, but Sibylle was her favorite. Sibylle made the most effort to get to know her and she genuinely seemed to care about Aaline. Not that the other women didn’t. Thora and Torvi had been amazing but they maintained a sort of professional distance from Aaline. She wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t open up to them or if it was because she was marrying the youngest son of Ragnar. Either way, Sibylle was the most open and friendly sister to her. Margrethe was distant at best. She attended all the wedding planning events and gave her opinion when asked but she made no moves to associate with Aaline more than necessary. With Margrethe, Aaline was sure it was because of Ivar. 

 

Aaline was sitting at her vanity watching Sibylle pin her hair up in intricate braids. She’d learned early on that the braids the women wore were a sort of symbol of their rank and position. Braiding one’s hair was a custom among the Northmen women but the more braids you had and the more complicated the style, the more power you had.

 

Lagertha always wore her hair in tight, intricate braids that started at her hairline and came back along her head and then came together into a distinct sort of ponytail. Torvi liked to wear her hair in a solid plate at the back of her head. It crossed in a complex set of strands from ear to ear and was framed by four smaller strands of braids and two thick rope braids. Thora’s braids were always elegant, starting at her temples and curving around her head like a crown leaving most of her hair down around her shoulders. Margrethe kept her braids the simplest. The hair at the top of her head was gathered into one long braid that dripped down her back to her waist. Aaline hardly ever saw it any other way. 

 

She blinked when Sibylle stepped back from her work and Aaline turned her head from side to side, examining the updo. Sibylle had given her two lace French braids on the left side of her head that trailed into a large bun at the nape of her neck. The hair was secure but not tight and there wasn’t a hair out of place. She smiled at Sibylle and leaned forward to finish her makeup. 

 

Sibylle began to putter around the room as she spoke. “So roughly two hundred people have been invited but…” Aaline cut her off. “I’m sorry. Two  _ hundred _ people?” She turned in her seat to look at Sibylle. The other woman didn’t seem to think this was odd. “Yes, two hundred.” Aaline gaped. “I don’t even think I  _ know _ two hundred people. Why so many?” Sibylle shrugged. “I said two hundred were  _ invited _ , I didn’t say two hundred were  _ coming _ .” 

 

Aaline rolled her eyes and turned back to her mirror. “I think the list I gave Torvi had  _ maybe _ fifty people on it.” She snorted. “Well, Ragnar’s an important man. Most of the people who were invited weren’t going to come anyway. They were sent an invitation simply because they do business with Ragnar. Out of the two hundred invited  _ maybe _ a hundred will come. Maybe.” Sibylle said as she picked up a set of heels that Aaline opted not to wear. 

 

“So, who  _ is _ coming?” Aaline watched Sibylle flutter around. “Well, all of us will be there, obviously. Ragnar’s brother Rollo and his wife Gisla. Floki and Helga will be there.” Sibylle looked up and smiled at Aaline’s confusion. “Floki is Ragnar’s best friend. They’ve been friends for years. Next to Floki his closest friend is Athelstan.” Aaline nodded slowly, cataloging all the names for later. “The brothers, Harald and Halfdan, will most likely be there and…” She hesitated and Aaline looked at her in the mirror.

 

She was picking up a discarded skirt of the floor when she stopped and glanced at Aaline in the mirror. “Who else is coming, Sibylle?” Sibylle swallowed thickly and stood up, wringing the skirt in her hands. “Aelle and Ecbert will be there as well.” Aaline’s mouth dropped open and she whipped around to face Sibylle. The other woman had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and the skirt twisted like a rope in her hands.

 

“Aren’t Aelle and Ecbert the ones who attacked Kattegat and cost Ragnar millions of dollars? The same Aelle and Ecbert who’s rogue soldier gunned down Aslaug seven years ago? Aelle, who’s brother Ivar is currently torturing?” Sibylle stood wide-eyed as Aaline listed off all the connections to Aelle and Ecbert.

 

“How do you know all that?” Sibylle whispered. Aaline scoffed and turned back around. “Did you really think I would marry into this family and not know all of that?” She watching Sibylle, waiting for an answer. When none came she continued. “Did you _not_ know any of that?” Sibylle shook herself and shrugged. “I mean, I knew about Aslaug and Kattegat but I didn’t know about Ivar torturing Aelle’s brother. How did you know?”

 

Aaline brought her eyes slowly up to Sibylle and the other woman took a measured step back. There was something dark in Aaline’s eyes. Something that Sibylle had only ever seen in Ivar’s eyes before and it scared her. As quickly as the look had come, it was gone. “I pay attention. I listen. The men around here aren’t as subtle as they like to think. Besides, I knew that Aethewulf was missing and there’s really only one plausible answer to where he is.” Aaline said.

 

She leaned forward and slicked on her lipstick. Sibylle watched her and thought that maybe Aaline and Ivar would be more suited for each other than they thought. She blinked and asked the question that had been nagging at her since Aaline first spoke. “Do you know anything about me?” Her voice was soft but it carried enough for Aaline to hear. She stopped applying her makeup and carefully screwed her lipstick back down and replaced the cap. She met Sibylle’s eyes in the mirror. “I know enough.” 

 

Sibylle had nothing to hide but she still got goosebumps at Aaline’s admission. She tried to swallow and realized how dry her throat was. She cleared it and tossed the skirt back onto Aaline’s bed. 

 

Aaline watched Sibylle smooth her hands down the skirt of her dress and realized that she made the woman nervous. She tended to have that effect on people. She sighed and turned around in her chair. “Sibylle.” She waited for the woman to look at her. When she did Aaline gave her, what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “Do you remember, a few months ago, when we had dinner together as a family for the first time?” Aaline knew right away when Sibylle figured out what dinner she was talking about. Sibylle straightened so fast it looked almost painful. Her hands knotted together in her lap and she pursed her lips tightly.

 

“What was Sigurd talking about?” She watched as Sibylle struggled with what to do. On some level, she knew that Sibylle probably wanted to answer her. She was a good woman and she was trying to be a good friend to Aaline so she wanted to be honest. On the other hand, no one discussed the incident that Sigurd was referring to. They liked to ignore it and push it under the metaphorical rug. It also wasn’t fair to Margrethe since this all happened before she married Ubbe. 

 

She finally sighed and looked at Aaline with wide eyes. “You have to promise not to say anything to Margrethe.” Aaline sat back and crossed her fingers over her heart. She didn’t even particularly like Margrethe. Then, again she didn’t dislike her either. She didn’t really have an opinion one way or the other. She was fairly indifferent to Margrethe as a whole, really.

 

Sibylle gave her a tense smile and sighed again. “Okay, well, this all happened years ago. I mean, before Aslaug died and before Ubbe and Margrethe were even married.” Aaline nodded with encouragement and adjusted in her seat. She felt like she probably needed to be comfortable for this story.

 

Sibylle gave her a withering look before she continued. “Alright. Ragnar owns and operates several different kinds of businesses. He has shipping docks, accounting firms, law firms, construction companies,” Aaline bristled but said nothing. “Restaurants, vineyards, wineries, you get the idea.” Aaline nodded and gestured her along. Sibylle smoothed nonexistent flyaways back along her hairline and continued. “Well, Ragnar owns a few strip clubs as well.” Aaline’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. That was surprising considering the kind of business that Ragnar mostly dealt with.

 

“Margrethe used to work at one of these strip clubs. That’s how she met Ubbe. And Hvitserk. And Sigurd.” Sibylle cringed remembering Sigurd’s past with Margrethe and Aaline was kind enough to keep her mouth shut. 

 

“Margrethe worked at this strip club and was a favorite between the three oldest. Ubbe and Hvitserk would come and see her during their breaks at school and Sigurd hung around a lot in high school and during college.

 

“At first, it was just dances and private shows but, as I’m sure you’ll come to find out, it’s difficult to say no to a son of Ragnar.” Aaline arched an eyebrow at that statement but chose not to say anything. She’d investigate it later. She waited for Sibylle to continue. “It wasn’t very long before Margrethe was sleeping with Ubbe. And Hvitserk. And Sigurd.” Aaline felt her mouth slowly drop open. She’d heard of open relationships and had even tried one herself in college but she quickly learned that she was painfully monogamous. Just the thought of sharing her partner with someone else brought up intense feelings of jealousy and paranoia. 

 

Sibylle looked like she was in an extreme state of discomfort but she continued. “Well, Ivar was in high school right around this time and was jealous. As you know, Ivar is kind of...difficult...and he was even worse as a teenager. Constant feelings of rejection and self-loathing made it hard for him to...be around people and girls were a topic best left alone.” Aaline nodded along, transfixed. She was learning more about her fiance from Sibylle than she probably ever would from him.

 

“Anyway, Ivar told his brothers that he wanted to...be...with a woman. They asked him who he wanted to be with and he said Margrethe. Since the rest of them share her, why not him too.” Aaline felt her mask of indifference slip over her face and she turned back to her mirror. When Sibylle didn’t continue she looked at her from the mirror and nodded. “I’m listening.” 

 

Sibylle nodded and kept going, wringing her hands as she did. “Well, Ubbe approached Margrethe about it and she said yes, mostly because I think she was afraid of what would happen if she said no.” Aaline’s face tightened and she stared at her hard expression in the mirror. “Ubbe and Hvitserk set up a time and a place for Ivar and Margrethe to… you know...and everything was ready.” Sibylle shrugged and shook her head. 

 

“I guess during the actual event Ivar wasn’t able to...perform.” Aaline turned around and looked at Sibylle. “Nothing actually happened, apparently. Everything was fine until Margrethe started telling people.” Aaline bit her tongue to keep from speaking. “She told Ubbe and Hvitserk and Sigurd and then Sigurd started telling his friends and eventually everyone knew about Ivar’s  _ performance _ issues.” Sibylle looked away and shook her head. 

 

“I mean, of course, he’d have issues. It was his first time with an experienced woman and he had no idea what to do. Anyone would have issues.” Aaline took Sibylle in with a new light. The same thoughts were going through Aaline’s mind and for Sibylle to share her opinion, clearly she didn’t have such negative feelings towards her brother in law. 

 

“Anyway, Sigurd likes to throw it in Ivar’s face every once in a while and I should’ve been prepared for it that night. I was just hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up in front of you but,” She stopped and looked over at Aaline. 

 

Aaline was sitting at her vanity with a pensive expression on her face. Sigurd was either cruel or held a deep resentment towards his younger brother. She decided to go with cruel and came to the conclusion that she would keep her distance. This situation was already difficult enough, she didn’t need the added presence of Ivar’s jealous older brother to strain her already fragile relationship.

 

It was cruel and unnecessary for Sigurd to bring up an event like that at a family dinner. Cruel because Ivar wasn’t the only person he was hurting in doing so. Margrethe had clearly been embarrassed and Ubbe was angry. Sigurd upset not one person but three with his actions and Ragnar hadn’t been too happy with him either. If anything, Aaline was a little angry at Ragnar for letting it go as far as it did. No wonder Ivar had such deep-seated trust issues and an impressive list of reasons he was self-conscious. 

 

Aaline sighed and looked up at Sibylle. She smiled and nodded once, placing her earrings before standing. “Thank you, Sibylle, for telling me. No one else was willing to.” Sibylle nodded half-hearted and let Aaline pull her to her feet. “Let’s get this party over with.” Sibylle couldn’t help but give Aaline a real smile before she was pulled out of the room.

 

.

 

Aaline heaved a deep sigh and took a long drink of her champagne. The engagement party had been in full swing for over an hour and she was already exhausted. She’d played the part of a happy couple with Ivar, standing in the front entryway and greeting their guests. Smiling at the appropriate times and letting Ivar touch her back and shoulders. He was never inappropriate but they hadn’t quite reached that level of comfort in their friendship.

 

Ragnar and Lagertha stood next to Ivar as they greeted guests and Ivar’s brothers and their wives mingled in the back lounge where food and drink were being served. Aaline’s father stood beside her and she made a show of ignoring him. He didn’t make any moves to talk to her but he didn’t talk to anyone else either. He kept to himself and shook hands with the guests. That was really all Aaline needed him to do. 

 

About twenty minutes after the party had started, an imposing man walked in with a pretty brunette by his side. Her hair was pulled back into a thick braid that trailed down her back. She was dressed in a flowing gold dress that shimmered as she walked and she had a dainty smile on her lips. The man had hair nearly as long as Björn’s pulled back from his face. 

 

They had stopped in front of the couple. The man shook hands with Ragnar before bringing him into a tight bearhug. The woman gave Lagertha a warm smile before pulling her into a hug, kissing both her cheeks. When the man turned to Ivar, he received the same treatment and the woman gave Aaline a similar greeting as Lagertha.

 

“My, you are a beauty.” Aaline blushed under the man’s gaze and Ivar laughed. “Uncle, please, don’t embarrass her.” Aaline was grateful that Ivar said something. She was not surprised to praise of her beauty but it made her uncomfortable when it came from strangers. 

 

The man nodded once and took a step back, placing his arm around his wife. Ivar did the same and leaned down towards Aaline. “This is my Uncle Rollo and his wife Gisla. They live a few hours away so they’ll be staying here while they’re visiting.” He straightened and gestured towards the party. “Please, Ragnar and Lagertha have worked hard to arrange the party. It would be a shame if you did not enjoy it.” Rollo beamed and escorted his wife towards the festivities. 

 

Another couple quickly followed Rollo and Gisla. The man was tall and skinny and had a strange glint in his eyes. His grin was slightly mad and his eyes were lined heavily in black. The woman by his side had thick curls that swayed behind her and an array of flowers braided into her hair. Aaline learned that this was Floki and his wife Helga, one of Ragnar’s closest confidants and Ivar’s favorite uncle.

 

No sooner had Floki and Helga entered another man came in. He was alone and dressed more casually than the others. He shared a strong hug with Ragnar and an equally as powerful embrace with Lagertha. Ivar shook his hand and thanked him for coming and when he stepped in front of Aaline he took her hand and kissed the back of it. 

 

Aaline watched him straighten and clocked the gun on his hip and the badge at his chest. She cocked an eyebrow and he laughed. “I’m Detective Athelstan. Ragnar and I have worked closely for several years and I would’ve hated to miss the party. Unfortunately, I am on duty so I won’t be here long. I just wanted to wish you all the best.” She nodded once at him and he was quickly escorted into the main area by Ragnar.

 

It had been over an hour since Aaline and Ivar had been released to mingle and Aaline was ready for the party to end. She took another long drink from her champagne and turned back to the bar. She nodded to the bartender and he turned to fix her another drink.

 

“I really do hate these big parties.” She turned to look at the man who spoke. He was sitting on the barstool next to her. He was dressed in all black with gold cufflinks and a gold tie clip. His red curls were styled in a sweeping manner across his forehead and he was swirling an amber liquid in his glass. He looked up and smiled at her. She shrugged and nodded at the bartender when he handed her her glass.

 

“Well, it’s my big party so I shouldn’t complain too much.” She watched him from the corner of her eye as she took a drink. He nodded and looked towards Ivar. “Your fiance is a lucky man.” She turned to face him fully and narrowed her eyes. “Now why do you say that?” She asked.

 

He shrugged. “You’re a beautiful woman and you have goals, ambitions. It’s not every day a man meets a woman whose ambitions align with his own.” She hummed. She looked towards Ivar. He was standing with Floki and his brothers, laughing and drinking. Aaline wished she could be having as much fun as he was.

 

“And what kind of ambitions are those?” She turned back to the mystery man beside her. He shrugged. “Power. Money. The same ambitions we all have.” He watched her as he drained his drink. She smiled and leaned closer, intrigued by this man who thought he knew her. “What makes you think my ambitions align with Ivar’s at all?” He leaned forward as well, his breath warm and smelling of scotch. “Why else would you be marrying him?”    

 

Aaline jerked her head around when she was suddenly pulled away, literally. Ivar had his hand wrapped around her bicep and was pulling her across the room towards the front of the house. Aaline tugged against him but her strength was no match for his.

 

The entryway was deserted and Ivar whirled on her as soon as he was sure no one was in hearing distance. “What do you think you’re doing?” He snarled down at her. His lip was curled up and his eyes were ablaze with rancor. She snapped her eyebrow up and scoffed, disbelief clouding her mind. “I  _ thought _ I was mingling with the guests at  _ our _ engagement party.” She tipped her champagne glass up and took a swig, keeping her eyes locked on Ivar.

 

He sneered and took a half-step towards her, his first two fingers leaving his glass to point at her. “You’re making a fool of me.” She scoffed and looked over her shoulder. No one was paying them any mind. A Lothbrok party was quite an affair and most took the time to get drunk off Ragnar’s impressive supply of wine and ignore the petty drama that took place right under their noses. Aaline wished she could join them but, clearly, her fiancé had other ideas. 

 

“And how, exactly, am I making a fool of you?” She whispered. Her voice was low and there was a dangerous cut to it that set Ivar’s teeth on edge. He ignored the feeling and peered down at her, forcing her back. She kept eye contact and he took it as a challenge. “By standing around, laughing with other men, flirting like you’re not already spoken for.” Aaline scoffed and shook her head. 

 

Ivar’s insecurities were at the forefront of this attack and Aaline wouldn’t let him push them onto her. She wasn’t about to let him blame his misgivings and self-doubt on her “behavior” at their engagement party. She was trying to have fun and get to know people. She hardly knew anyone and figured that if she was going to be married to a son of Ragnar she may as well get to know the allies of Ragnar. It would do more good than bad. Clearly, her attempts set off Ivar’s anxiety because as soon as she started to forget all about her situation, he pulled her away and accused her of making a fool of him.

 

“Forgive me if getting to know your allies hurts your feelings.” He didn’t like that at all. His lips pulled back over his teeth and a low rumble settled low in his chest. He lurched forward into her space and was nose to nose with her. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of flinching and he ground his teeth together. “That man is  _ not _ an ally. He is Aethelwulf son of Ecbert.” 

 

Aaline clenched her jaw and felt something pop. She huffed and a bitter smile came to her lips. “Well,  _ I _ wasn’t the one who invited your enemies.” She took another drink and delighted in the color that rose to Ivar’s face. 

 

He had to swallow down the scream that rose up in his throat and he released a slow, hot breath through his nose. Aaline raised an eyebrow at his impressive show of control. This was a new concept for Ivar and she had to give him props for trying. 

 

“It is a power move. You, of all people, should know that. Now, we’re going to go back in there and you  _ will not  _ embarrass me again.” He made to grab her elbow but she pulled away from him and downed her champagne. He stared at her in what appeared to be bewilderment and she almost laughed. She placed her empty champagne flute in the entryway table and moved around him towards the stairs.

 

“I don’t think so, Ivar.” He gaped at her as she began to ascend the steps. “Where are you going?” He sounded incredulous. She turned to look at him, her face set in stone. “You think you’re embarrassed? Imagine how I feel being manhandled out of our engagement party by my fiancé. A fiancé who doesn’t look too happy, by the way. Then, you have the audacity to tell me that I made a fool of you when  _ you’re _ the one who invited your enemies to the party. Forgive me if being a good hostess embarrasses you.

 

“Now, I’m going up to my room to finish out the night with something relaxing. I hope that’s not too  _ embarrassing _ for you.” She turned around to leave and growled when he grabbed her again and turned her to face him. She brought her hand up to his throat and squeezed. Ivar sneered and set himself down one step below her but he didn’t let go. She did.

 

“What am I supposed to tell people?” Aaline was thrown by his compliance. If anything, she expected him to stomp and yell until she came back to the party. She wasn’t sure what this move did for him but she acquiesced. 

 

“Tell them I got sick. Tell them there was an emergency. I don’t care. Figure it out.” She shrugged and he released her. She turned away from him and made her way back to her room. She didn’t see Ivar stand at the bottom of the stairs and watch her go, rubbing lightly at his throat as he did.


	9. Anyone Who's Ever Been Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparation for the wedding puts things in perspective.

_ “Strength and vulnerability are not mutually exclusive. Give yourself permission to experience both.” ~ Tonya Renee _

 

It wasn’t even a month after the engagement party and the wedding was around the corner. Aaline and Ivar had not discussed the events of the engagement party but it had put a strain on their fragile friendship. Aaline had been tightlipped and tense around Ivar and he had been scarce around the house. Sibylle had asked Aaline what had happened but she kept her mouth shut. As frustrated as she was at Ivar, he was still going to be her husband and she wasn’t going to air their dirty laundry for all to see. Especially because Sibylle was married to Sigurd and everyone knew how Sigurd despised Ivar. He would just use their engagement party as another thing to taunt Ivar with. Aaline wouldn’t let him do that.

 

She had taken to releasing her frustrations at the gym like she usually did. Ivar had not joined her in several weeks. She assumed he was either angry or frustrated by her attitude during their engagement party. She wasn’t sorry. He should’ve been grateful that she didn’t follow through on her promise. She had warned him during their first meeting that if he ever touched her without her permission she’d cut his balls off. He was probably off somewhere nursing his wounded pride. 

 

She glanced up when a presence made itself known at the doorway. Ivar was staring at her, his hands held in front of him wrapped in white tape. He was massaging the palms of his hands with his thumbs, switching back and forth between left and right as he stared at her. She took a deep breath through her nose and went back to the punching bag.

 

She didn’t let up when Ivar came around to the other side. She continued to ignore him even as he took hold of the bag and held it steady. She glared at him but his face remained impassive. She felt a tide of frustration rising in her. She didn’t know where it was coming from but she knew it was directed at him. His stupid opinions about them, his stupid preconceptions of her, his stupid attitude, his stupid face.

 

She delivered a solid hit to the bag that was centimeters from his face. He jerked back and swore, releasing the punching bag. “What do you want?” She panted. She could feel the heat in her face and little trails of sweat rolling down her face. She set her hands on her hips and waited for him to speak.

 

He licked his bottom lip and tucked it between his teeth. Aaline ignored the knot that clenched in her belly when he did that. He sighed and shook his head. “If this is your way of apologizing for the way you treated me the other night, I don’t accept.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t apologize.” He said. She nodded, her eyebrows high. He rolled his eyes again and looked away. 

 

She waited for him to speak, to say anything to make up for his behavior. She didn’t have to know Ivar well to know that apologizing was not something that he did. Ever. She had it in her mind that none of the Lothbrok men apologized for anything. They didn’t seem the type to do things and feel sorry about them. She wasn’t sorry for the way she acted at their engagement party and she didn’t think Ivar was either.

 

She turned away from him and back to the punching bag. She was setting up her stance when he spoke. “Hvitserk says that the best way to get around this,” She turned to face him when he cut off. He was gesturing in front of him, circling his hand in the air, trying to come up with the right word. She didn’t think there was a word to describe their situation. “Setback,” he looked at her for confirmation and she nodded once for him to continue. “He says we should talk about...life.” He made a face when he finished speaking, almost as if he thought the idea itself was ludicrous.

 

She snorted and rested her hands on her hips. “What, like, my life? Your life? Life in general? What does that mean?” Ivar rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know but I don’t think he’s wrong.” She straightened and stared at him, gauging his expression. 

 

He appeared open and honest. He didn’t look like he was trying to be difficult. He genuinely looked like he was making an effort which was saying something. Ivar was not one to try at something if he didn’t think he would get anything out of it. If she was honest, she knew she would be more difficult if there wasn’t common ground. The two of them individually would make the others life miserable if they really wanted to. Ivar didn’t even really have to try to be difficult. It was truly just in his nature to make life unbearable for those around him. 

 

He was an ambitious man and he knew what he wanted and he wasn’t afraid to go after it. He didn’t believe in beating around the bush or pulling his punches. Life was easier for everyone if you were just honest and that was something that Ivar lived by. He didn’t believe that anyone benefitted from lies and he made it a point in his life to tell people the truth. 

 

Now, a drawback to this particular way of life was that Ivar was painfully honest to the point where people were offended. Honesty was Ivar’s preferred method of communication, however, he was not particularly kind when delivering his honesty. He generally got joy out of watching people’s faces change colors when he told them the truth. He would deliver his opinion in a way that both told the truth and offended so as to see how many different shades of purple he could see across a person’s face. 

 

Aaline found the trait both annoying and endearing. A part of her thought it was callous and childish while another part of her thought it was humorous and refreshing. It wasn’t very often in the business world that someone had the balls to tell the god's honest truth.

 

She shook herself and turned away from, reaching down for her water and towel. She had straightened back up and was headed out the door when Ivar spoke again. “When I was a child, my father tried to kill me.” Aaline stopped at the threshold. She circled her tongue inside her bottom lip, her thoughts racing through her mind, trying to settle on one. She turned back to face Ivar.

 

He was staring at her, his face blank and his eyes unfocused. “I was born with Developmental Dysplasia of the Hip, DDH, for short and my parents didn’t do anything about it. My mother blamed my father and my father blamed my mother but neither one of them thought to do anything about it.” He was recalling facts and events like they happened to someone else. It was almost like he was explaining someone else's life events to her. 

 

“My father noticed that I hadn’t started crawling like the rest of my brothers. He watched me after that, to see if I was just behind but when I should’ve been walking and wasn’t he figured something was wrong.”

 

He shifted his weight and Aaline glanced down at his legs. Looking at them now, she didn’t see anything wrong with them. They were tanned and corded with muscle. At their first meeting, Aaline had noticed that he favored his left side and walked with a slight limp. Nothing that was too obvious but Aaline knew to look for it. 

 

She brought her eyes back up to his face when he pressed on. “My father had been on a business trip and just returned the night I was conceived. He woke my mother and she told him of a dream she had. She said that Ragnar was not to touch her for three days or the child she would conceive would be damaged, broken.” He shook his head and glanced down. She wasn’t sure if he was looking at his hands clasped in front of him or the toes of his trainers but she didn’t have time to linger before he spoke again. 

 

“My father didn’t listen to her and they were overjoyed when I was born and they saw nothing wrong with me. It wasn’t until I was old enough to be walking that Ragnar knew something was wrong. He approached my mother and, according to Ubbe, she raged at him and shouted that nothing was wrong with me, I was just as the gods intended.” He snorted and shook his head, a self-deprecating smile gracing his face.

 

“For days they argued over what to do with me. Ragnar thought that having useless legs was no way to live life. Aslaug argued that there was nothing wrong with me and it was my father’s fault if there was. She told him the consequences of laying with her that night and he didn’t listen and if there was anything wrong with me, it was his fault.

 

“Well, Ragnar decided that modern medicine couldn’t fix me so he took me out to the woods behind the house one night and left me there. He figured the elements would take me or the animals would.” He laughed without humor and looked away. Aaline felt such a rush of sympathy well up in her chest, tears stung her eyes. She held them back though and continued to watch Ivar. He shifted his weight and she could tell that it pained him. 

 

“My mother followed him and found me by a creek, still swaddled in my blanket. She took me back inside and wouldn’t let my father touch me. It was actually Lagertha who suggested they seek medical attention. I was, maybe, two years old. The doctor’s revealed that I had DDH.” He gestured to his hip and turned slightly to face her. “The ball of my femur was removed from the socket joint and had been for some time. I was too old so they had to do surgery.” 

 

He tugged on the waist of his shorts and she could see a thin, white scar on his hip that was roughly six inches long. “After the surgery, I had to wear a cast for three months and then I started learning how to walk. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I noticed pains in my hips and knees. Mother thought my DDH had returned but father wasn’t so sure. Turned out just to be Inflammatory Arthritis of the Hip.” He gave an indifferent shrug and met her eyes.

 

“There’s no cure so I just have to manage it. Björn started teaching me to box. Activity helps alleviate some of the pain so I try to stay active. It’s worse in the morning but eases up throughout the day. I just take ibuprofen throughout the day and that usually helps so…” He stopped and looked up at her from beneath his brows. It was like his version of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”. She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. 

 

She wasn’t ready to reveal her darkest stories. She didn’t feel like she knew Ivar well enough to go into those details. She tried to think of something that would put them back on even footing. She glanced up at him and took a deep breath. 

 

“My father killed my mother.” She heard him suck in a sharp breath and she looked up. His chest expanded rapidly and his eyes were shrouded in darkness. His face turned down and he looked angry. “I was seven when she died.” She shook her head and looked away. She kept her eyes on the window high in the wall that filtered in the sunlight. “They were driving home from some benefit that supported my father’s company. He’d been drinking apparently and thought he was fine. Well, he wasn’t.” 

 

She took a deep shuddering breath and licked her lips. Her mouth was dry and she couldn’t bring herself to speak louder than a whisper.

 

“He swerved and ran off the road into a ditch. The car flipped three times before it stopped. My mother was taken to the hospital where she was pronounced DOA and my father blew a blood alcohol content of .10. He was arrested and charged with driving while intoxicated and negligent vehicular manslaughter.

 

“I don’t know if it was because I was so young or because it was his first offense. Maybe it was because he had money, I don’t know.” 

 

Aaline crossed her arms over her chest and clasped her elbows. She felt small all of a sudden. She hadn’t felt like this since she was in high school and she didn’t much like the feeling. 

 

“Either way, he got ninety days, time served, and a ten thousand dollar fine that was like pocket change to him. The next fall I was shipped off to my first boarding school and saw my father when I was causing problems so,” She looked up at Ivar and he had a calculating look on his face. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to calculate but she pressed on, ready to be finished “showing him hers”. 

 

“So I caused problems. It didn’t matter anyway. He stuck around long enough to see me off to the next boarding school and then he was gone again. By the time I was old enough to understand why I didn’t care anymore.” She nodded and felt her chest expand to a distance she hadn’t felt in a long time. She looked up at Ivar in confusion. He seemed to sense the same kind of weight leaving the room and he nodded once toward the punching bag.

 

“Go again?”

 

.

 

The rehearsal dinner started much the same way that the engagement party had. She and Ivar greeted guests at the front door and kindly directed them towards the sitting area in the backyard. The brother’s and their wives led guests towards empty seats and mingled to keep them occupied. 

 

Aaline was surprised to see Ecbert waltz through the door like he owned the place. She hadn’t seen him at the engagement party but she knew he had been there. Aethelwulf’s presence had been enough of a clue but she wasn’t sure why he’d been invited to the rehearsal dinner. She felt that it was another show of power or even a show of position. Either way, she didn’t ask, and Ivar didn’t tell her if Ecbert was invited or if he was just crashing. 

 

Everything was fine up until the actual rehearsal of the ceremony. Lagertha said that Ives would be walking Aaline down the aisle and she refused. Lagertha stopped and stared at the back of her head. Sibylle was doing her hair again for the rehearsal dinner and her hands had frozen in Aaline’s waves as soon as she’d spoken. 

 

Torvi, Thora and Margrethe were already outside, waiting for Aaline to appear so they could begin the procession. “Aaline, he’s your father. It’s his job to walk you down the aisle.” Aaline was firm on this decision. “For the last few weeks, he’s simply been another member of my board. As far as I’m concerned, he hasn’t been my father for years.” 

 

Lagertha made eye contact with Sibylle who shrugged and continued working her fingers through Aaline’s hair. She heard Lagertha sigh and leave the room. Sibylle wove her fingers in and out of Aaline’s hair, twisting the braids around each other. 

 

“He is your father, Aaline. It’s his job to walk you down the aisle.” Aaline leaned forward, pulling her hair from Sibylle’s adept fingers. Sibylle dropped her hands and met Aaline’s eyes in the mirror. “It doesn’t matter what his _ job _ is. It’s his  _ job _ to love me and he’s been doing a bang up job of that, hasn’t he.” 

 

.

 

“I don’t understand why I have to wear a suit. It’s just the rehearsal dinner.” Ivar was adjusting his tie again as he and his brother’s waited for the women to start the procession.

 

Lagertha had just whisked the women off to the far corner of the back patio and was whispering in hushed tones. Whatever it was, it had severely messed up her plans and she looked like she was scrambling to find a remedy.

 

Ivar had to keep himself from snorting out loud. She had spent the last several months planning this wedding down to a T and if Aaline did anything to bungle her plans, he would kiss the ground she walked on.    
  


It wasn’t that he didn’t like Lagertha. She was his father’s first wife and she was incredibly loyal to him. He never cared for the way she treated his mother. Granted, Aslaug had been the other woman and, essentially, usurped Lagertha from her place beside Ragnar but Ragnar had wanted to marry them both. It was Lagertha who chose to leave and divorce him. 

 

Ivar never liked the way that Lagertha looked at Aslaug. It didn’t help that she attended the funeral and didn’t cry. Everyone else was weeping but Lagertha had stood next to Ragnar with her head held high and a smile on her face. He had felt a resentment so profound that he knew it would never leave him. It had faded over time but he still harbored a deep resentment towards Lagertha and her place beside his father, no matter how misplaced.

 

He stopped messing with his tie when Torvi came over and pushed his hands out of the way. She reached up and adjusted the knot, loosening it. She stared at his throat when she spoke. “Aaline refuses to let her father walk her down the aisle and Lagertha wants you to try to convince her.”

 

Ivar quirked an eyebrow. He waited until Torvi looked up at him before responding. “I don’t blame her. He’s a right prick.” Torvi’s eyes widened near to bursting and Hvitserk snorted. Björn cleared his throat and pushed his wife gently to the side. “What do you mean, Ivar?”

 

Ivar tilted his head back a little and went back to pulling at his tie. He undid the knot. “If I could, I would kick him off this property and kindly ask him never to return.” He tugged on the tie and it whipped through the air, snapping against his collar so sharply that it startled Ubbe and Sigurd. He sent a shark-like smile towards them and wound the fabric around his knuckles. “After all, he is the reason her mother is dead.” 

 

Torvi gasped almost imperceptibly but Ivar heard and offered her a placating smile. She took a step back and looked up at Björn. Her husband offered a comforting hand.

 

“Let Ragnar do it.” Ivar huffed. He finished curling his tie around his hand before sliding it inside his jacket pocket. He looked up at the stunned faces of his brother’s as he undid the first two buttons of his white button-up. 

 

“He already calls her a daughter of Ragnar. At least this way he’ll actually get to walk her down the aisle instead of watching from the sidelines.” He said to Torvi. He set his hands in his pockets and nodded towards Lagertha. He watched her whisper to the older woman before she jerked her head to look at him. Ivar’s smile was threating.

 

She disappeared back inside the house and not five minutes later, a visibly nervous Sibylle appeared followed quickly by Lagertha and then his father and his fiance. He turned to face the altar and clapped his hands together once.

 

“Let’s get this show on the road.”


	10. Comfort When It's Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline say "I Do". Aelle makes a deal with Ragnar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the wedding vows that I used in this chapter are traditional Celtic vows. At least, I’m pretty sure they are. I found them on Pinterest and I loved how they sounded. I thought they fit fairly well with where I want this story to go and with Ivar and Aaline. Anyway, enjoy!

_ “It is an unfortunate fact that we can only secure peace by preparing for war.” _

_ ~John F. Kennedy _

 

Lagertha had truly outdone herself. 

 

Red, black and white decorations elegantly transformed the manor into something out of a bridal magazine. Red and black floral arrangements lined the circle drive so people could see them as they drove up. A valet was there to take the cars around to the side of the house, out of sight of the ceremony and the following reception.

 

At the end of the stairs, in front of both the left and right banister, was a pillar of roses. Red rose petals scattered the entryway across the black carpet that lead guests down towards the backyard where chairs had been set up in curved rows on either side of the aisle. Each chair had white upholstery and red bows around the back. A tall white archway stood in front of the assembled chairs with sheer white fabric draped over the back. Lagertha had elected to have a judge preside over the ceremony.

 

Aaline peered out the door of her designated changing room. She had a good view of the lounge that had been turned into a reception area. Lagertha had opened up the sliding doors that separated the outdoor patio from the inside, opening up space and allowing for more tables and chairs. Several round tables were placed throughout the room with white table cloths and block chairs draped in red sashes. Red and black rose petals were scattered across the tables and the floor. White roses served as the centerpieces.

 

Aaline closed the door and turned back to the room. Lagertha was adjusting Sibylle’s straps while Torvi stood at the back window, watching people being seated. Margrethe and Thora sat on the sofa along the back wall. Thora was trying to engage Margrethe in conversation while Margrethe tried, and failed, to hide the flask she had hidden in her garter. Aaline had watched her take multiple sips throughout the day and she was well on her way to tipsy.

 

Aaline took a deep breath and turned to the full-length mirror on the back of the door. 

 

Her hair had been styled in loose waves that had been teased and gathered at the back of her head in a full bun with wisps of hair hanging in specifically placed strands around her neck and face. A necklace of diamonds and pearls had been pinned around her hair, draping over the style in a graceful circle. A classic set of teardrop diamond earrings decorated her ears and her mother's freshwater pearl hung from her neck.

 

Her makeup was simple but sophisticated. Sibylle had put on a light layer of foundation with a powder on top. There was just enough blush on the apples of her cheeks to give her pale complexion some color and bronzer was strategically placed to narrow her face and give her a glow. A fine dusting of highlight focused the light on the prominent features of her face. 

 

Aaline had insisted they take pictures before the ceremony. She didn’t want to spend any more time on them then they needed to and she wanted to spend as little time between the ceremony and the reception pretending. She wanted to spend most of her time pretending before the ceremony so that she could enjoy herself at the reception. It was a party after all.

 

She blinked and gave Sibylle a tight smile when she came up behind her. Sibylle smiled back and began to clip the veil into place underneath her bun.

 

“Are you nervous?” She asked. Her voice was quiet enough that only Aaline could hear her. Aaline glanced in the mirror and found Sibylle’s eyes locked on her hair. Torvi and Lagertha were trying to coax Margrethe to her feet and Thora was picking at the flowers in her bouquet.   

 

Aaline pressed her lips together, making sure her lipstick was even and there were no smudged. “I’m marrying a complete stranger. Why would I be nervous?” She said. Sibylle glanced up and met her eyes in the mirror. “You and Ivar seem to be getting along well enough.” She quipped. Aaline scoffed quietly and watched with rising anxiety as Margrethe tried and failed to stand up a third time. 

 

“We understand each other. That’s all.” She could tell Sibylle didn’t believe her when all she did was hum. 

 

She turned when Sibylle placed gentle hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Ivar’s the one who suggested Ragnar walk you down the aisle.” 

 

Aaline tried to ignore the warmth that settled in her stomach when Sibylle said that. She felt her skin crawl but not in a bad way. It made her uncomfortable but the kind that came with feelings of happiness and contentment. She tried to shake them off. She wasn’t ready for happiness. She didn’t want it. 

 

She broke away from Sibylle when Lagertha clapped her hands. 

 

Margrethe, though unsteady, was on her feet with Thora behind her for support. They were processing in the order of the brother’s birth. Sibylle would go first, walking with Sigurd. Thora would follow with Hvitserk and Margrethe and Ubbe would come up behind them. Torvi and Björn would serve as the Best Man and Matron of Honor. 

 

Ivar hadn’t complained when Aaline suggested they just process in age order but Sibylle told her later that Björn was not Ivar’s favorite brother. Aaline had taken it into consideration but stuck with her decision.

 

Aaline looked over when she felt someone come up beside her.

 

Ragnar was dressed smartly in an all-black tuxedo with a blood red tie and a gold tie clip. He had a red pocket square and coattails. His hair was pulled back in a long braid down his back and he looked freshly shaved. On the sides of his head at least. He still sported a full beard although it did look trimmed and cleaned. His eyes were bright and his smile almost childlike in its mischievousness.

 

Aaline pressed her lips together painfully to keep herself from smiling but it didn’t work. She broke out into a wide grin and Ragnar glanced down at her. “You look beautiful, daughter.” He said. 

 

The breath left her lungs and felt tears suddenly rush to her eyes. Ragnar tutted and gestured with grace down the aisle where Ivar waited. “Don’t cry yet. We don’t want to ruin that beautiful make-up that Sibylle spent hours perfecting. Save your tears for my son when he moves you with his vows.” 

 

Aaline produced a watery laugh and sniffed. The music started and Sigurd and Sibylle began to walk. Aaline straightened and kept her eyes focused on the people in front of her. She counted in her head as the brother’s and their wives made their way down the aisle. 

 

Ragnar hummed and she hooked her hand in his elbow. He settled his right hand on top of hers and squeezed her fingers when it was their turn to start walking.

 

He kept his pace even and his soft humming helped settle Aaline’s nerves. She saw her father sitting in the front row on the left side, the bride’s side, but she didn’t meet his eyes. She could see his shoulders shaking from the aisle and refused to acknowledge him. 

 

Ragnar stopped just a few feet away from Ivar and the judge. Aaline kept her eyes forward, afraid of what she’d see when she looked at him. “Who gives the bride away in marriage to this man?” The judge said. Aaline took a deep breath, her shoulders tense. 

 

“I do,” Ragnar said. She could hear the underlying glee in his voice. She suppressed a smile. This was, after all, the only time he would be able to “give away” anyone at a wedding. 

 

She ignored the hitched sob behind her and turned to face Ragnar. He winked at her and gave her a conspiratory smile before squeezing her hands and retreating to the seat beside Lagertha on Ivar’s side of the seating.

 

She met Torvi’s eyes next and handed her bouquet to her Matron of Honor. Torvi nodded once and double fisted the flowers.

 

Aaline could hold it off no longer and turned to face Ivar. 

 

He was beautiful.

 

His eyes were a clearer blue then she’d ever seen them and his hair had been styled back and away from his face, exposing the clean lines and strong bones of his face. His lips looked as if he’d been biting them recently and he was cleanly shaven. 

 

He had on a black tuxedo with a dark red vest and tie. His pocket square matched the red of his tie and he had a gold tie clip to accent. 

 

His eyes were fixed on her face and he couldn’t seem to look away. 

 

Aaline blinked and forced herself to look at the judge as he spoke.

 

She tuned him in an out as he went on about love and happy relationships. He spoke a little about successful marriages having a strong foundation and how she and Ivar represented that foundation. She almost rolled her eyes.

 

She blinked when she felt a hand grasp hers. She looked over at Ivar and he nodded towards the judge. She jerked around and blushed to the roots of her hair when she realized he’d prompted her to speak her vows and she missed it. 

 

He gave her a patient nod and she cleared her throat. She gave him an expectant look and he went on. 

 

“Repeat after me…” She listened.

 

She turned bright eyes to Ivar and took a deep breath, her hands shaking and her heart pounding. “You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.”

 

Ivar’s eyes were alight with some emotion that Aaline couldn’t quite place. It almost looked like affection but she wasn’t sure. A small smile graced his face and his shoulders rose and fell too quickly for him to be breathing normally but too slow for his breathing to be labored.  

 

Aaline blinked away the sudden rush of tears and pressed on. “I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night. And the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to you the first bite from my meat and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and dying, equally in your care, and tell no strangers our grievances. This is my wedding vow to you. This is a marriage of equals.”

 

She felt the heat slowly drain from her face when Ivar took his turn. 

 

She felt she understood his sudden emotion when she felt a well of pressure deep in her chest. His voice carried over her and she felt a sense of calm that hadn’t been there before. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he recited the same words she’d just finished. 

 

She felt as if the rest of the world had disappeared and everything was centered on the words dripping from Ivar’s lips. 

  
The Lothbrok didn’t make promises lightly and she felt, deep in her bones, that Ivar would be true to his words, no matter how rehearsed they may have been. 

 

They exchanged rings in what felt like a blur, Torvi handing Ivar’s ring to her in a flurry of motion and Ivar slipping her ring on her hand in rapid fire. 

 

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” 

 

A breathless gasp left her lips and she looked up at Ivar with apprehension.

 

The vows seemed like a far off dream compared to this moment. Now, she wasn’t sure what Ivar was feeling. 

 

He didn’t give her time process before he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. She had a second's notice before his lips were on hers.

 

He kept it classy, keeping his tongue in his mouth, but his lips were gentle and relaxed against her own. She took a breath and got a lungful of something that was truly Ivar. She felt dizzy and a soft sign fell against his lips. He groaned and brushed his nose against her cheek before pulling away. 

 

She met his eyes and there was a storm of emotion brewing behind them. She shivered and goosebumps rose on her arms. 

 

“It is with great honor and privilege to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Ivar Lothbrok.”

 

Ivar collected himself first and stepped out towards the crowd, keeping her hand in his. He smiled towards their guests and began to tug her down the aisle. She had to lengthen her strides to catch up to him but was fast and they walked into the house as a unit.           

 

.

 

Ragnar heaved a deep sigh as he settled his frame into the plush chair in his office. He stared, with glittering eyes, at the men seated across from him. 

 

Aelle and Ecbert had been invited for two purposes. One was to show power. He needed them to know that he was not afraid of them and that he felt they posed no threat to him. The second was to broker a deal regarding Aethelwulf and the millions of dollars that Ragnar “lost”. He would rather have waited until well into the reception to begin the discussion but Aelle had pulled him aside twice before the ceremony and once just as the reception was getting started. Ragnar did not have the patience for Aelle’s desperation.

 

Björn stood behind him on his left and Ubbe and Sigurd stood on either side of the door. Hvitserk was at the reception with Ivar and the women to keep them updated and placated at the same time. 

 

Ragnar cleared his throat. “Let’s get this moving. It’s my son’s wedding and I’d like to see the first dance.” He waved his fingers dismissively and delighted in the color that rose to Aelle’s face.  

 

The large man shifted in his seat and Ragnar eyed his chair with concern. “What do you want for the safe return of my brother?” Ecbert coughed and Ragnar snapped his eyes to the other man. When he didn’t make a move to speak Ragnar addressed Aelle.

 

“You cost me a great deal of money.” He said. He sucked on his teeth to prevent the smile from crossed his features. Aelle’s face had turned a dangerous shade a purple and Ragnar was almost worried. He saw Ecbert lean over and whisper something that only Aelle could hear. The larger man shifted again and jerked his head to the side. He cleared his throat and Ragnar smirked.  

 

“You have my brother.” The words sounded almost forced from Aelle’s mouth. Ragnar chuckled. “You didn’t leave me much choice, Aelle, attacking my docks as you did.” The big man chewed on his lip and kept his beady black eyes trained on Ragnar. He didn’t appear to want to respond to Ragnar’s statement so Ragnar gave him an answer to his earlier question. 

 

“Twenty-five percent of your annual income. Cash.” Aelle spluttered. “I do not think I heard you, Ragnar Lothbrok.” 

 

Ragnar grinned shark-like and leaned forward. “Twenty-five percent. That is the price.” Aelle blew out his breath like he’d been deflated and moved to stand but Ecbert leaned over again and Aelle was quick to sit.

 

Ragnar narrowed his eyes at the fairer man. He didn’t like that Ecbert seemed to be controlling the meeting. Twice now Ecbert had intervened when Aelle nearly lost control. Twice now Ecbert had been a voice of reason and Ragnar did not like his amount of control.

 

Aelle tugged on the sleeves of his jacket and cracked his neck. “I agree to the terms but first, you must return my brother.” Ragnar cocked an eyebrow at Aelle’s forwardness.

 

“When we receive payment, you shall have your brother.” Aelle seemed to forget that Ragnar was the one who had control. Ragnar didn’t  _ need _ twenty-five percent of Aelle’s income. Yes, the millions of dollars he’d lost at Kattegat was disappointing but he made double that at half his other docks in a week so it was tragic that the money had been destroyed. Aelle was the one who wanted something from Ragnar so this was going to work in Ragnar’s favor. 

 

Aelle heaved a great sigh and his chair creaked ominously. Ubbe and Sigurd shared a glance. “You must give me time to collect everything.” Aelle held his hands out in a placating manner and Ragnar dipped his head forward. 

 

“And you shall have it. Ten days.” 

 

.

 

Aaline had never been more nervous in her life. 

 

The soft melody of the piano washed over her and drowned out the din of the party but it did little in the way of calming her nerves. She could feel Ivar’s breath on her neck and shoulder and the heat from his hands was near to scorching. His chest was pressed against hers in a way that allowed her to feel his heartbeat against her breast. She felt him sigh and he reared back to look at her. 

 

“Don’t look so afraid, Aaline.” She looked up and met his eyes. They were filled with a wicked gleam that she recognized as delight and she scoffed, smiling. “I’m not afraid.” She said.

 

He snorted and shook his head, swaying her around in a circle. For a man with chronic joint pains, he was light on his feet. Though, that shouldn’t have surprised her with his boxing career. 

 

“Then why do you look as if the cavalry is coming to escort you to your doom?” She looked up at him with wide eyes. A slow smile began to overtake his face and she rolled her eyes. He laughed and she couldn’t help the grin that crossed her own face. 

 

She turned her head to gaze at the face on the outskirts of the dance floor. So many people that she knew and so many that she didn’t. 

 

There were multiple photographers there. One that Lagertha had hired to photograph the wedding, two from local newspapers, and one from a national magazine. The name Lothbrok was synonymous with several nationally recognized chains and organizations so it went without saying that some national outlet was going to request to be at the wedding. Aaline wasn’t sure which magazine had been granted the privilege but she was sure that whoever it was had been heavily vetted by Lagertha and Ragnar.

 

“I’m not sure what to expect from here.” She was addressing Ivar’s inquiry about her fear. Again, though, she wasn’t afraid. More like...apprehensive. She wasn’t sure what to expect from now on both in the Lothbrok family and in their relationship. 

 

Ivar took a deep breath. She watched his Adam’s apple bob and his jaw clench. His eyes trailed over the room much like hers had just done. He took another deep breath and looked down at her.

 

“You just take it one day at a time, Aaline.” She wasn’t sure she was satisfied with his answer but before she could press him the DJ announced that it was almost time for speeches.

 

She stepped back from Ivar and gestured towards the bar. He nodded once and turned to Hvitserk when he slapped his shoulder, grinning like a fool. 

 

Aaline floated between the guests, making a beeline for the bar. She needed a dose, or two, of liquid courage before she continued on with this night. 

 

She rested her forearms on the bar and waited for the bartender to return from God knows where. She needed a whiskey or a bourbon or maybe even tequila. She would probably need it. Where was the fucking bartender?        

 

“Those Lothbrok men are fickle creatures.” Aaline turned to the voice beside her and tensed. Ecbert was leaning casually against the bar with a wine glass clutched in his hand and his elbows braced against the bar. His eyes danced over the crowd and his lips were turned up in a smirk.

 

Aaline glanced around to see where her new in-laws were and found none of them within waving distance. She turned back to face Ecbert. He turned his head to look at her and smiled fully. Aaline didn’t trust it. 

 

“When I heard that Ivar was getting married I just knew I had to be there. It would have to be a truly remarkable woman who would marry the youngest Lothbrok.” His gaze traveled over her, much like Ivar’s did at their first meeting. Ecbert’s stare was far more unsettling than Ivar’s. Aaline looked around again for anyone to flag down but still, there was no one. 

 

“I came here on good terms, darling.” She jerked around when Ecbert’s fingers closed over her arm just above her elbow. He released her slowly and gestured out towards the dance floor. “Ragnar has proposed a deal with Aelle but I’m sure you already knew that.” Aaline narrowed her eyes. The way the words rolled off his tongue implied that he  _ knew _ that she _ didn’t _ know and was patronizing her.

 

“They met right after the ceremony, to discuss terms.” He brought his wine glass up to his lips and took a measured sip. He set it down on the bar behind him and turned to face her. “We haven’t been formally introduced.” He held his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Ecbert. King of the Mercia Chapter of The Saxons.”

 

She took another look out towards the dance floor before placing her palm against Ecbert’s. He surprised her when he turned it over and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “It is lovely to finally meet you Mrs. Aaline Lothbrok.” 

 

Aaline snatched her hand back from Ecbert, her eyes wide. He smiled at her as he straightened, acting as if there was no tension between them.

 

He picked his wine back up and turned back to the crowd. “I’ve many things about you, Mrs. Lothbrok. Mostly good. A few missteps in your youth but,” He turned glittering eyes to her. “Who doesn’t have a slip up here and there?” He tilted his glass towards her before taking a drink.

 

Her heart was racing and she could hear her blood pumping in her ears. She had been hoping to avoid Ecbert and had been doing her best to do so but she had stepped away for a moment to get herself a new drink and hadn’t been paying attention. She had missed his presence against the bar and discovered him too late. 

 

“I do admire Ragnar Lothbrok. He has ambition and he doesn’t let anything get in the way of that.” He turned back to face the bar, placing his empty wine glass on the bar top. He smiled at her. “Ragnar and I are a lot alike.” He turned bodily to face her, taking a step closer. She had half a mind to step back but knew that would be a sign of weakness. She stood her ground and Ecbert grinned. 

 

“Nothing gets in the way of what I want.” He stepped around her. She turned and watched him disappear out the back door and into the crowd. She felt a shudder make its way from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. She tried to push the encounter out of her mind. She didn’t want to tell Ivar but she knew she needed to tell someone. She just didn’t know who.   


	11. Isn't It Lovely, All Alone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline's wedding night is tense.

_ “What was rage but a cover for some secret fragility, some sorrow?” _

_ ~ Rachel Hartman _

 

Aaline sat on the edge of the bed, her hands white-knuckled against the comforter, the handle of her blade digging into her palm. Ivar was in the bathroom; she could still hear the water running. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could hear the tremor in her lungs as she did and she hated herself for it. 

 

She wasn’t some weak little virgin on her wedding night. She’d slept with men before both in college and once she came home. To be fair she hadn’t had a lot of time after college to sleep around. She was fairly busy running her father’s company and she’d learned early in her collegiate career that she didn’t like the way she felt after casual hookups. They made her feel used and disrespected.

 

Since random hookups weren’t her thing and she didn’t have time for relationships it was safe to say it had been awhile. She enjoyed an occasional date night with her reliable rabbit that kept her fairly happy and relaxed.

 

Aaline was afraid. She may have been married to Ivar but she didn’t know him. They’d had a handful of civil conversations in the months that they’d known each other and only a few of them had anything to do with them as people. 

 

She was afraid because she didn’t know what to expect. Ivar was unpredictable on a good day. She’d heard the rumors and knew what people said but she could only hope that he wasn’t an abhorrent human being who enjoyed hurting women. She knew he enjoyed violence and reveled in hurting his enemies but she only hoped that sadism didn’t extend to the bedroom.

 

She had tried to forget her encounter with Ecbert. As quickly as he’d come he was gone and she didn’t see him for the rest of the night. His visit had only served to up her anxiety.

 

The reception had continued as Lagertha had likely planned. There was a bouquet toss and a garter toss. There was a cake cutting that was tame to the displeasure of many of the guests. They skipped the father-daughter and mother-son dance for obvious reasons. They performed all the necessary rituals for a reception and Aaline held off the end of the night as long as possible. 

 

When the DJ finally announced the final dance to be shared between the bride and groom, Aaline had turned apprehensive eyes to Ivar. She watched as he straightened and seemed to gather himself before taking her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor. 

 

They didn’t speak this time. 

 

She could feel the tension in his shoulders. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the expectations for the night or if he was in pain but she didn’t ask. She was just as tense.

 

As soon as the song ended the remaining guests formed two lines on either side of the entryway and sent them off. They received hugs, handshakes, and well wishes as they made their way up the long staircase towards Ivar’s room. 

 

No sooner had the door closed and Ivar was marching passed her and into the bathroom. She heard the lock engage and sat on the edge of the bed. She slipped her pocket knife out of its hiding place inside the waist of her dress and waited.  

 

It was coming up on thirty minutes that Ivar had been in the bathroom.

 

She startled when the door opened and clenched her eyes shut. She heard him rustle around the room for a few minutes before she peeked her eyes open. They widened when she saw his state of undress. 

 

He was naked from the waist up with only a threadbare pair of gray athletic shorts. She could see the corded muscles that flexed beneath his skin as he rummaged through the dresser. Stretching across his shoulders and down the slope of his back was a large depiction of snakes curling across his back. She could see the ink stretching over his shoulders and disappearing on his chest. She sucked in a sharp breath when he turned to look at her. 

 

The tattoo curved around his shoulders and across his chest circling his neck like armor. The curves and lines of the ink stretched over his shoulders and down his ribs, covering most of his chest and upper arms. 

 

The artwork was breathtaking and Aaline had to shake herself free of the thoughts overcoming her. 

 

He had approached the bed while she was distracted and was standing at her knees. His piercing gaze was boring holes into her soul and she lost her breath. He began to lean down and panic jumped up in her throat. Before she realized what she was doing, the blade of her knife was tucked up beneath his chin. 

 

Ivar didn’t move. He kept his eyes trained on her and his hands on either side of her hips on the bed. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and snarled down at her. She could see the disdain bleeding through his carefully constructed control. She maintained her position.  

 

“I warned you that if you touched me again without my permission, I’d cut your balls off and feed them to you. Did you think I was lying?” She whispered. The space between them was minuscule at best and she could feel his breath ghosting over her face. “It’s our wedding night,  _ wife _ . We have a responsibility.” She could hear the contempt dripping off of every word.

 

“Fuck responsibility,  _ husband _ . Your father has four other sons, married, that can provide him with grandchildren, a legacy. He doesn’t need me.” She growled low in her throat. She clenched her teeth and bared them like a dog does a threat. She felt threatened, now. He was hovering over her, his impressive bulk easily pinning her to the bed beneath him. Her one advantage was the knife pressed against his throat. She wasn’t afraid to use it.

 

“What about  _ my  _ legacy?” He spat at her, his teeth pressed together just as hard as hers. She shook her head and pressed forward, his body moving back instinctively, away from danger. “No man will touch me without my permission again.” His eyes narrowed and he stood up fully, taking a step back from her, her knife hanging forgotten between them. “Again?” His voice was soft, almost gentle when he spoke. 

 

She kept her mouth shut and her eyes trained on his powerful shoulders. “Is that what you think? I was going to  _ force _ myself on you?” Her hand started to shake and she watched as he stalked around the bed and ripped his sleepwear off the edge of the bed, the edge that she had been sitting on. She felt a flurry of guilt well up in her chest. 

 

“I may be a lot of things,  _ wife _ , but I’m not a rapist.” He stalked towards her, throwing his sleep shirt on as he went. She tensed but he pushed her knife hand down and away from him. “When I fuck you,” He pressed forward, his forehead against hers. She stood ramrod straight with her hands down at her sides clenched into tight fists. 

 

“And I  _ will _ fuck you, it’ll be because you asked me to. Because you  _ want _ me to.” He stepped back and glared down at her, his eyes filled with a rage she hadn’t seen before. “I prefer my bedpartners willing.”       

 

He turned his back on her and slammed the door on his way out. Aaline closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, her knife clattering silently to the floor. She collapsed back against the bed and felt tears roll down her cheeks. 

 

She couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad. She didn’t mean to accuse him of being a rapist but her past experience kept her on guard. She didn’t know what to expect from him tonight so she prepared herself for any possibility. He was either going to rape her or leave her alone. His reputation made her believe that he would rape her. He was too violent and cruel. His eyes, though, when she implied that he would were filled with despair so potent that there was no way he could’ve hurt her even if he wanted to. He was right. He was many things but a rapist wasn’t one of them. 

 

She shook off her dark feelings and stood up. She would not feel bad about protecting herself. Nothing Ivar said or did would change that. She tied her hair up into a ponytail and turned to the mirror above his dresser. She needed to let off some steam and she conveniently lived in a house that held a boxing ring in its basement.

 

She reached behind her and gave the zipper of her dress a harsh tug. She felt the fabric give beneath her hands and pushed it roughly down her legs. She didn’t care if Ivar found it in the morning or where it ended up.

 

She stared at herself in the mirror. She was naked except for the thin pair of lace panties hugging her hips. There were red marks under her arms and on her chest from the weight of her dress. Her face was red and blotchy from her tears and her eyes were slightly swollen.

 

She swallowed hard and huffed. 

 

She turned to the bag in the corner of Ivar’s room that Thora had thoughtfully packed for her. Inside were cotton shorts, a tank top, and a black sports bra. She dressed in a hurry and made for the door. 

 

Boxing helped her blow off steam.

 

.

 

“I mean, who does she think she is, really?” Ivar kept his pace slow as he circled the room. His shirt was draped lazily over the edge of the table holding his instruments and his arms and shoulders were shiny with sweat and blood. His feet slapped lightly against the damp stone. 

 

Aethelwulf was sitting this time with his hands and feet tied to the chair beneath him. His head hung between his shoulders and his hair was dripping with sweat. Blood dripped in a steady stream from the longest strands hanging in front of his forehead.

 

Ivar was tossing a hammer from hand to hand with ease. Blood was fresh on his fingers but he handled the tool like it was an extension of his arm. 

 

He sighed and turned to face Aethelwulf. The older man did not react except to continue to breathe heavily. 

 

“She thought I was going to rape her, Wulfy.” Ivar stroked his fingers up and down the handle of the hammer, running his nails over the grove where the metal met the wood. “I’m not a rapist, you know.” Ivar stared at the top of Aethelwulf’s head from beneath his brows. “I told her that, too. I said, ‘I may be a lot of things but I’m not a rapist.’”

 

Ivar clicked his tongue and dropped his hands, tossing the hammer onto his work table. He grinned when Aethelwulf flinched. Ivar crouched and tilted his head back to stare up at Aethelwulf’s face. His laugh was dark when he saw that the man’s eyes were clenched shut too tight to feign sleep.

 

Ivar stood up and arched his back, groaning when there was an audible crack. He cleared his throat casually looked through the various tools on his work table. He heard Aethelwulf start to sob and he smiled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, Wulfy. I mean, we don’t really know each other so it makes sense that she would think the worst of me.”

 

Ivar sighed as he picked up an icepick. “Although I do take offense to being labeled a rapist.” He looked down at Aethelwulf. “Second only to child molesters.” Ivar twirled the instrument between his fingers with speed. “It’s wrong to take my frustrations out on those I care about and I imagine my new wife is currently occupying the gym so I had to find alternative means to,” He crouched again and tilted Aethelwulf’s head using the handle of the icepick. “Vent my frustrations, if you will.”

 

Aethelwulf shuddered and Ivar bit his lip with pride. “You were the next best thing.”


	12. Your Smile, As Rare As It Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lothbrok men discuss their deal with Aelle. Ivar and Aaline box together.

_ “Sometimes a deal with the devil is better than no deal at all.” _

_ ~ Lawrence Hill _

 

“The deal is this. Aelle gives us twenty-five percent of his annual revenue in exchange for Aethelwulf’s safe return.” Ragnar knocked his knuckles against the surface of his desk. He glanced up to gauge his sons’ reactions.

 

 Björn seemed to accept this deal. He’d always had an unfailing faith in Ragnar. Ubbe and Hvitserk looked contemplative and Sigurd was too busy eyeing Ivar to provide a reaction regarding the deal. Ivar had his fingers steepled together and looked pensive.

 

“Is twenty-five percent enough to make up for what we lost?” Ubbe asked. Ragnar straightened. “It is. We lost,” He splayed his hands in front of him, looking to Björn. “Five million dollars.” Björn supplied. Ragnar nodded. “Five million dollars.” Ragnar sat back and spread his fingertips across the top of the desk, his hand arched up.

 

“Aelle pulls in, roughly, one hundred million a year, give or take, so,” He shrugged nonchalantly as his son leaned forward with renewed interest. “He’d be giving us around twenty-five million dollars which is five times what we lost. We’d be making money off this deal.” Ragnar finished with a flourish of his hand and sat back in his chair, the leather groaned against his weight. 

 

“I don’t trust him,” Ivar spoke up. Ragnar glanced up at his youngest son and regarded him with practical eyes. 

 

Ivar had been on edge since they met for breakfast this morning. He and Aaline had sat with everyone else and kept up the languid conversation but they were careful not to interact with each other. They didn’t touch each other and they made a point not to speak to each other. Björn told him that Ivar and Aaline had not shared a bed last night and that Ivar was up until the early hours torturing Aethelwulf. 

 

This worried Ragnar. 

 

Ragnar truly felt that Aaline and Ivar would be good together. He saw similar traits in them and they were both such independent spirits. He knew that his son was difficult but he hoped that their wedding night would be a good place to start learning more about each other. Clearly, they were not of the same mindset. 

 

Ragnar nodded. “I do not trust him either, my son, but we are trying to make peace. We have something Aelle wants and he has something that we want. It is a mutually beneficial agreement. We will have precautions in place but I feel that this will be good for us.” 

 

Ivar nodded but did not look convinced. He dropped his hands into his lap and looked away, his jaw clenched tightly. Sigurd snorted and shook his head. Ivar slowly brought his head back around to his brother but said nothing. 

 

Ragnar eyed his older son and cleared his throat. “Is there something you want to say, Sigurd?” His tone was not polite and was filled with a heavy warning that strongly implied that Ragnar wished for Sigurd to remain silent. Sigurd was not much for reading into his father’s warnings and spoke anyway. 

 

“Ivar just pissed because his new wife kicked him out of their bed last night.”

 

All the brother’s tensed and Ivar’s nostrils flared. Ragnar rapped his knuckles sharply against the desk and pointed a threatening finger at Sigurd. “None of that. Not today. We need to discuss meeting places for Aelle.”

 

Ubbe shifted in his seat, straightening his jacket. “We should make it public. Somewhere with lots of bystanders, innocent people so he’d be less likely to try something.” Ragnar nodded, looking up towards Björn. 

 

“I agree with Ubbe. The more public the better. It’d be harder for him to get away with something that way. He’d be more likely to do what he said than go back on it.” Björn shifted his feet and nodded once as if he was reassuring himself.

 

Ragnar looked back at his other sons. “Anyone else?” When no one made a move to speak, Ragnar nodded and stood up. “Excellent.” He buttoned his jacket. “Hvitserk, I want you to do some research, find a place nearby that is public but not so much so that Aelle gets nervous. Ubbe, Sigurd, compile a team of our most trusted men to complete the deal. Björn, once we have our place, I want you to call Aelle and remind him that he has,” Ragnar looked at the calendar on his desktop. “Nine days to come up with the money before our deal is rescinded. Ivar,”

 

Ivar stood when his name was called and waited for his instruction. He didn’t have a good feeling.

 

Ragnar stepped in front of his youngest son and placed his hands on his shoulders. He smiled and brought his hands up to Ivar’s face, cupping his cheeks and stroking his thumbs over the bones. “Talk to your wife.” He patted Ivar’s cheek with affection before he could brush him off. 

 

Sigurd snorted and Ivar turned to watch his father leave, seething.

 

~*~

 

Aaline was shadowboxing when Ivar came in. She didn’t see him so he leaned against the wall and watched her for a while. 

 

His anger over last night had dissipated. He understood the reasons behind her anxiety and swore to himself that he would figure out what had happened to her. She’d clearly been assaulted in the past. She said to him that no man would touch her without her permission again so someone had done it once already.

 

Ivar felt a boiling anger roll beneath his skin and he shook it off. There were two kinds of people in this world that Ivar hated: liars and rapists. The worst kind of people. One you could never trust, never get close to for fear of their betrayal. The other was a coward who thrived on power over defenseless women. 

 

Power was something Ivar understood but there was something so much more satisfying about gaining it from more powerful men than yourself. Taking power from someone who already had tasted better than taking it from someone who didn’t. 

 

Aaline was his now, anyway. Whether she liked it or not, he had a responsibility to her. She was his to protect and care for. He would find out who had hurt her and he would make them suffer. He just had to wait for her to come to him. He couldn’t force her to tell him, that would just push her away. No, he’d wait until she was ready and willing.

 

“Are you just going to stand there or do you intend on joining me?” Ivar snapped his eyes up when she spoke. She had stopped shadow boxing and was staring at him with her hands at her sides. 

 

She didn’t look angry which Ivar took as a good sign. She also didn’t look apologetic with Ivar admired. He was not sorry for the things he said and did the night before and he’d lose respect for her if she was. 

 

It was an admirable trait to mean what you said. Few people had it for fear of the outcome but Ivar had never been afraid to speak his mind and follow through on his actions. It looked like Aaline was the same. He knew that they would need to discuss what had happened last night and Aaline’s assumptions but that could be tabled for a later date. 

 

Now, he wanted to box with his wife. 

 

He shuffled forward and stepped into the ring. She moved back and made room for him. He eyed her frame before meeting her eyes. “You stand Southpaw but you’re right-handed.” He had noticed her stance the first time he saw her training but he hadn’t said anything up until now.

 

She nodded. “I’m right-handed but my visions better in my left eye.” Ivar nodded and jerked his chin towards her. “Show me.” She hesitated before dropping back into her stance. Ivar circled her slowly, pushing and pulling on areas to test her strength and move her into a better position. 

 

He came back around to her front. “Have you always fought southpaw?” She straightened and shook her head. “No, I started orthodoxly but my trainer noticed that I took more hits when I did so he had me try southpaw and I never went back.” Ivar grinned and she shared his smile.

 

He dropped back into his own stance and held his hands up on either side of his face, pushed out towards her. He nodded once and jerked his chin. “Hit me.” She tilted her head and eyed him warily, a small smile making its way across her face. He nodded again and she shrugged slightly. She fell back into her stance and began throwing jabs into each of his hands. 

 

Soon enough the gym rang out with their mixed laughter.   

 

~*~

 

Ragnar poured two glasses of bourbon. He carried one in each hand as he turned back to his desk. He handed one to Lagertha and set the other down before taking the seat beside her. She smiled at him and tipped the glass before taking a drink.

 

Ragnar tilted his head towards her before he sat back in his seat, waiting. 

 

She didn’t usually stay so late in the night. She had a penthouse apartment across the city that she preferred with Astrid there to warm her bed. There was something on her mind and Ragnar was willing to listen but she had yet to speak.

 

She was slow to consume her drink, relishing its taste and gathering her thoughts. Ragnar was patient and he would wait. 

 

He and Lagertha had been married for several years and she had been his closest confidant even longer. She was his second-in-command and he made no decisions without her input or advice. She was important to him.

 

He knew that whatever she wanted to say had something to do with Ivar and Aaline. Aaline had been speaking mostly to Torvi and Sibylle about her marriage to Ivar and Torvi kept nothing from Lagertha. The only reason Ragnar knew that Ivar had not spent the night with Aaline was because Aaline had confided in Torvi and Torvi told Björn and Lagertha. Neither one of them kept anything from Ragnar so he was going to find out from someone. 

 

There was not much else on Lagertha’s mind besides Ivar and Aaline. Much like him, she cherished the women that his sons married. Even though Björn was her only living child, she loved the rest of Ragnar’s sons like they were her own. She stepped up after Aslaug died and they all appreciated her for it. 

 

She took all the women under her wing, teaching them the workings of Lothbrok men and how to be the wife of a made man. She taught them about the business and about the law, encouraging them to get involved. She was never one to sit on the sidelines and look pretty and she didn’t want the rest of the women to do that either. 

 

Some of them were better about taking her advice than others but she cared deeply for them all. She didn’t want to see them get hurt and she would be the first to step in if one of the daughters-of-Ragnar was mistreated in any way, even if it was her husband who had mistreated her. 

 

The girls were important to Ragnar and Lagertha and they wanted them all to succeed. They both knew that Ivar and Aaline would be difficult to unravel but they anticipated the challenge.

 

Lagertha placed her empty glass on the edge of the desk and smiled over at Ragnar. He smiled back and continued to wait.

 

“I know that Ivar and Aaline’s wedding night did not go as expected.” Ragnar snorted and shook his head, sitting back in his chair. Lagertha gave him a look that still made Björn shudder but continued on. “Honestly, I don’t know what I expected but that wasn’t quite what I thought would happen.”

 

Ragnar sighed loudly and slouched low in his seat like a child at the dinner table. “I didn’t expect them to have sex but I didn’t think she would kick him out.” Lagertha arched a perfect blonde eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. Ragnar looked chagrined and shrugged. “What?”

 

She clucked her tongue and sat up straight, sitting on the edge of her chair like a proper lady. “Is that what Björn told you? That she kicked him out?” 

 

“Well, why else would they sleep in different rooms?” Ragnar was bemused. Björn hadn’t gone into _ great _ detail but he said that words were exchanged and Ivar slept in his room while Aaline slept in hers, the only sign of her presence having been her crumpled and ripped wedding dress.

 

Lagertha clucked again and Ragnar huffed. “She was frightened.” Lagertha gave him a meaningful look as she picked up his full bourbon glass and began drinking it. “Why?” Ragnar sat up straight and folded his hands. If Aaline was scared of Ivar then they might have a problem.

 

“I think she thought he would take advantage of her.” Ragnar gave Lagertha disbelieving eyes and she cocked her head to the side. “Be honest, Ragnar, knowing her history and the situation, did you really think she wouldn’t be afraid.”

 

Ragnar grunted and thought back. 

 

He did a mental catalog of Aaline’s history and agreed that it was a plausible reaction. Having known Ivar so little and being thrust into unfamiliar territory, he understood why Aaline would be frightened. “Poor girl.” He murmured. Lagertha grunted and drained his bourbon.

 

“I have a good feeling though.” She said. Ragnar looked over at her and grinned. “Do you?” He stood up and took both empty glasses back to the bar cart.

 

“Yes. They are too similar and too different. They have enough in common to find even footing but are different enough to keep each other on their toes.” She nodded, her face distant, lost in the possibilities. Ragnar chuckled as he refilled both glasses.

 

“Yes, I think this will turn out very well. For both of them.” Lagertha said, taking Ragnar’s offered glass. They clinked glasses and drank deeply.    


	13. If I Had A Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline reveals her past traumas to Ivar.

_ “I wish that you never know the pain of having a voice and not being able to use it.” _

_ ~ Sohela Chatterjee _

 

“Left! Left! I said left!” 

 

Ivar lowered his gloves and glared at his wife. She huffed and rested her hands on her hips, exasperated.

 

They had been training regularly for the last two weeks. They had opted out of a traditional honeymoon for obvious reasons but they needed to keep up appearances. They made sure to keep themselves out of the public eye for the last two weeks to feign wedded bliss when really they’d been boxing for most of it. 

 

They’d built up a rapport in their training regime. It was easier for them to trust each other in the ring. They dropped away all pretenses and could just be themselves. 

 

With Ivar’s experience, he was able to provide Aaline with some insight that she was unfamiliar with. She had never fought professionally and kept it strictly about training. Ivar loved the performance of the sport. He lived for the broadcasting and the publicity of the whole thing. If it wasn’t for his hips he could’ve had a lucrative professional boxing career. 

 

Aaline had never strived for a career in boxing. It was simply a way for her to defend herself. She had learned early in life that the best way to protect yourself was both physically and psychologically. Once she picked up boxing, she’d felt a level of empowerment that she hadn’t felt before. She was able to take her life back.

 

“Why do you ignore me, huh? I’m trying to help you.” Ivar growled. She rolled her eyes and turned away, bending at the waist to pick up her water bottle and take a long swig. Ivar huffed and leaned back against the ropes, watching her. 

 

He’d been wondering, for the months that he’d known her, why she’d taken up boxing. She had mentioned that she wanted to know how to defend herself and he understood that he really did. Some of the most talented fighters that he knew were women. Lagertha herself was a force to be reckoned with. 

 

Deep in his gut, he knew that there was something in her past that drew her to self-defense. Her instincts to fight him when he approached her without warning. Her threats of physical violence when she felt threatened. She had alluded more than once to being touched without her permission. 

 

Ivar was not stupid. He worked in a crime syndicate that participated in various illegal activities on a regular basis. Women were attacked all the time for their connections to powerful men. The thought of his wife having fallen under that category brought up strong feelings of violence. He wanted to hurt someone. He wanted to cause pain.

 

This was not a feeling that he particularly cared for. He hadn’t ever felt this before.

 

His brothers didn’t need protection. They were more than capable of taking care of themselves. He was young when his mother died and it had happened so suddenly that he would’ve been unable to protect her no matter how hard he tried. His brothers were responsible for the protection of their wives. 

 

This overwhelming urge he had to protect his wife was foreign and he didn’t know how he felt about it. 

 

“What made you want to learn to box, Aaline?” He asked. He tilted his head to the side and watched her with calculating eyes. She dropped the water bottle from her lips and kept her eyes focused on the wall over his shoulder.

 

“Why do you want to know?” She asked. She brought her hands down by her sides and licked excess water from her lips. He shrugged and a small smile graced his face. She looked away.

 

“You told me you wanted to learn how to defend yourself so,” He brought his hands up in a kind of shrug and brought them back down, the ropes springing back against his weight. She trailed her eyes over his face, trying to determine his motivation. She shook her head. 

 

He sighed and licked his lips. “Come on, Aaline. You are my wife. We’re supposed to tell each other things. We’re supposed to trust each other.” She snorted and shook her head. His face fell and he narrowed his eyes. His shoulders tensed and he stared at her under his brow. 

 

“What, you don’t trust me?” She snorted again and shook her head.

 

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. You haven’t done anything to show me that I can trust you.” She gestured her hands out towards him before dropping them down at her side with a reverberating smack. 

 

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t let your father walk you down the aisle. I had Ragnar do it instead.” He shrugged and continued before she could open her mouth to speak. “I insisted that we skip father-daughter and son-mother dances for,” He gestured back and forth between the two of them. “Obvious reasons. I told you that my father thought death would be better than living life as a cripple.”

 

“You’re not a cripple.” She said. He hummed and ignored her. 

 

“The point is, I have done several things that imply you can trust me so,” He nodded towards her. “Trust me.” 

 

She continued to look unsure so Ivar rolled his eyes in a fashion that would make the queen bee’s jealous and sighed with a drama rarely seen off the stage. “I’m torturing Aethelwulf.” She cocked an eyebrow but otherwise remained emotionless.

 

“I’ve had him for,” He shrugged, mentally calculating the days that he’s had Aethelwulf. “I don’t know, weeks, at this point. I’m trying to get information but he’s being fairly tightlipped.” He took a deep breath through his nose and pointed at her. “I enjoy it, too. Did you know that?” 

 

She blinked slowly at him before nodding once. He hummed and trailed his eyes over her frame. “I’m sure that’s not news to you at all.” He took a deep breath and looked away, suddenly unable to bear any look of rejection that flashed across her face. 

 

“I know there’s something wrong with me. I’ve always known. I get a thrill out of the violence and danger of my work. I enjoy it when we have to go head to head with anyone. I prefer it when my father resorts to physical violence as opposed to psychological manipulation. It’s more fun that way.

 

“I never killed cats or wet the bed. I wasn’t abused or neglected. I’ve always enjoyed violence. I like to hurt people but only when they’ve slighted me.” He rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely off the side. “Or my family but mostly me.” He missed the slight smile that came to her lips. He was too busy looking away from her to see it. 

 

“Everyone else doesn’t matter. They’re insignificant unless they threaten my family. Then they’re expendable.” He looked at her finally and shrugged nonchalantly. It looked like he didn’t have a care in the world and couldn’t care less if she agreed with him but inside he was terrified that she would run screaming from the room.

 

Aaline watched his eyes swirl with a multitude of emotions. His admission wasn’t nearly as difficult as hers was about to be but she supposed she owed him. This was a partnership after all and he wasn’t wrong. They needed to trust each other and how else did you build trust? By sharing secrets.

 

“When I was sixteen, I was attending my third boarding school in eight years. After my mother died, my father shipped me off to European boarding schools to keep me out of the way. Either that or to avoid interacting with me. Either way, I’d seen my dad a handful of times in the eight years since he’d sent me to Europe and most of those times was when I got into trouble and had to be transferred out.

 

“At that point, I’d built a nice little reputation for being a trouble maker and an outcast so I didn’t have any friends. People tended to stay away from me because of my reputation but that didn’t stop the richest kids from trying to get a rise out of me. 

 

“For the most part, it was easy to ignore them. I tended to avoid confrontation unless someone put their hands on me or purposely sabotaged me in some way. When I was a ten, a little girl had been picking on me for two years, upping the ante until she claimed my art project as hers.

 

“I had spent weeks on it, working all through art class to complete it, perfect it. We had the same initials, A.J., so when it was time to turn in the completed projects, she took mine and broke hers, claiming my project as her own. She got an A and I failed.

 

“So, for the next few weeks I started,” Aaline gave a hesitant shrug and squinted like she was trying to come up with the right word. “Scaring her, I guess. First, I sent her black roses. Then I started taking her things, keeping them for a day or two and then returning them in worse condition. I put roaches in her desk, I stole her math workbook so she failed an entire section of math class. 

 

“It was a boarding school so we slept in dorms. I snuck into her dorm and put gum and glue all in her hair. She had beautiful, long blonde that she was super proud of, and the headmistress had to cut it all off.” Aaline smirked, giggling as she recalled the memory. “She looked like a boy.”

 

She sighed and shook herself. “Anyway, she suspected it was me for a long time and her hair was the final straw. The deputy headmistress brought me in with her and she accused me of doing all those things to her. They couldn’t prove it and I said as much. They didn’t like that so they did the next best thing besides expulsion.

 

“They called my father, he flew out and they told him I needed to be transferred out by next semester. I could finish my exams early and start at a new school for the new semester.”

 

She shrugged. Her face was impassive and blank of all emotion. “So I did. That was the first time I was transferred out. I transferred again when I was twelve and then when I was sixteen.” She stopped and looked away. He could see a new shine in her eyes and braced himself. 

 

“When I was sixteen, I was in my third boarding school. People avoided me for the most part. I got called a few names, heckled in the halls but nothing serious. Halfway through the first semester this boy, Domonick Benjamina, started following me around. I ignored him at first, didn’t take him seriously. He was friends with a lot of the people that harassed me regularly so I didn’t give him the time of day but he was persistent.”

 

She shook her head and looked down at her clasped hands. Ivar kept himself still across from her, afraid any movement would scare her away like a rabbit in the brush. “He left me little notes in my locker, gave me origami roses and swans, sat next to me at lunch.” She looked up at Ivar. “He even bought me flowers once. Red roses which,” She pursed her lips and hummed. “Have never been my favorite.”

 

Ivar let a small smile come to his face but didn’t say anything. She pressed on. “Around Christmas time, he asked me out on a date. Naively, I agreed.” Ivar felt a cold sense of dread creep up the back of his neck. Ice settled low in his belly and he felt his fingers tighten on the ropes.

 

“He took me off campus to a fancy restaurant. I had never been off campus for dinner. I preferred to keep to myself so it was a welcome change. We had dinner, took a walk, and then he took me back to his car.” Her voice cracked at the end and she cleared her throat. Ivar tried to swallow but his tongue felt like sandpaper, grating the back of his throat.

 

“He opened the back door of his car and I was confused. He winked at me and told me to get in. I started to get nervous and tried to go around him but he wouldn’t let me. He grabbed my arm and pushed against the car. He told me to get in or he would leave me in the woods to walk the fifteen miles back to campus alone. 

 

“I told him to let me go or I’d scream and he said no one would hear me. He slammed me back against the car when I pushed him away and I hit my head. I was dazed and the sky was spinning but I felt him shove me into the backseat.”

 

She swallowed thickly and crossed her arms over her chest, hunching forward. “He raped me. When he was finished, he drove me back to campus and told me I was a great lay.” She looked up at him and Ivar could see the anger and the pain rooted deep in her eyes. He could also see the strength and power inside them. 

 

“The next day, I went to the headmistress and told her what had happened. She asked me if I kept the clothes I was wearing and when I said yes she asked me for them. I gave them to her and she said she would get in touch with the police.

 

“I should’ve known she was lying. She didn’t ask me who did it, she didn’t ask for any details, she didn’t call the police right then and there, she didn’t ask if I needed to go to the hospital, nothing. She just asked for my clothes and sent me back to my room.”

 

Ivar sucked in a sharp breath and looked away. His body was trembling with rage. “It wasn’t until after winter break that I asked her about it. She said the police couldn’t find anything to corroborate my story so they had no choice but to drop it. I told her she was lying and she said that there was no point in pursuing it. No one would believe me and I would just be ruining a young man’s life.” 

 

Ivar shook his head and stepped off the ropes. She reared back and he held up his hands in surrender. “Thank you, Aaline, for telling me what happened to you but I’m afraid I need to go hit someone.” She gave him a shaky smile before he stalked out of the ring.

 

~*~

 

Ragnar watched his youngest son rage throughout the living room. He had already broken two chairs and a china cabinet. He’d punched three holes in the drywall and left scuffs on the floor that Lagertha would throw a fit about. 

 

Ivar had stormed into the room where he and Björn had been exploring the deal they’d made between Aelle and Ecbert. He began screaming about Aaline being assaulted and mistreated. He’d gone on about getting vengeance and finding the man who’d raped her and making him hurt as much as she was. 

 

Ragnar and Björn listened with patience and let Ivar express himself. It was when he reached for the table that Ragnar had to stop him. 

 

“Ivar! Enough!” Ivar froze, trembling in front of the table. He was drenched in sweat and his breathing was deep and uneven. 

 

Björn held up placating hands and stared at Ivar like he was a wounded animal. “Son, I realize that you are upset about this but,” Ivar cut him off. 

 

“Did you not hear what I just said? My wife was raped and no one did anything about it. She told people and no one believed her.” Ivar pointed an accusing finger at his father. “You did not see what I saw in her eyes. You don’t know.” 

 

Ragnar hissed like an angry cat and Ivar stepped back. “Did you stop long enough to let her finish? Do you know what she did to him?” Ivar narrowed his eyes but didn’t speak. That was enough for Ragnar to know that he didn’t wait. He didn’t know what Aaline had done to Domonick Benjamina. 

 

“She ostracized him from his friends. She made him out to be a pervert. She sent pictures out to all the girls in school and made it look like he was sexually harassing them. She shared secrets that people had told him. His friends dropped him, three sexual harassment charges were brought up against him and he was asked to leave school. 

 

“He had to finish school in public education because no boarding school would take him and he couldn’t get into any Ivy League school. Last I heard, he was working a desk job in his father’s company because he didn’t have a degree to work higher up and no other place would take him because of his history.

 

“This didn’t stop with high school, son. She maintained her vengeance until she felt his life had been properly ruined. She sent him black roses every month that she ruined him. They only stopped coming when she felt he had been properly punished.” 

 

Ragnar sat back and looked at his son. 

 

Ivar glared down at the glossy surface of the table, his hands resting on his hips and his breathing noticeably calmer. Sweat still dripped from his brow but he was no longer shaking with rage. 

 

He looked up and Ragnar was not surprised to see the familiar steel that coursed through Ivar when he set himself up for a mission. “Well, I’m afraid that’s not good enough.” 

 

Ragnar couldn’t help but smile. 


	14. Love So Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline has an encounter with Margrethe. Ivar meets Domonick Benjamina.

_ “It takes a lot of courage and trust to look past what you’ve been through, and trust someone new not to put you through it again.” _

 

Ivar had not spoken to her about her past since the night she revealed it to him. She knew that he had suspected. He was a smart man and she’d made several threats against him if he ever touched her without her permission. It had really been only a matter of time before she told him or he found out. Either way, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. She felt like she could breathe freely for the first time since she’d married him.

 

She had not told anyone else about her rape. She suspected the Ragnar and Lagertha knew. Björn probably as well. She didn’t mind so much, them knowing. They were discrete people. They weren’t the types to go around and speak ill of family. That wasn’t how Ragnar ran things. 

 

Torvi had invited her, and the other women, out for brunch. They were seated on the front patio drinking mimosas and chatting about the weather. Aaline fought the urge to roll her eyes. These women were smart and had married into a dangerous family. They could give two shits about the weather. They just didn’t know the best lead into what they really wanted to discuss. 

 

Aaline and Ivar’s marriage. 

 

Aaline knew that she and Ivar had been the talk of the town following their “sudden” marriage. According to the tabloids, it had been a whirlwind romance and Ivar had proposed two weeks after he had met Aaline. It was easier to let the public believe what they wanted instead of revealing the truth. Who wanted to hear how the country's most eligible bachelor was roped into an arranged marriage to protect his father’s money and reputation? Interesting, yes, but harder to believe then a whirlwind romance.

 

Aaline hadn’t told Torvi anything about her and Ivar’s discussion. It was her marriage after all and if Torvi needed to know, Aaline would tell her. She suspected that Thora and Torvi and Sibylle were just worried about her and wanted to check up on her, for their own peace of mind. Margrethe couldn’t care less about Aaline.

 

The woman in question was on her fourth mimosa and they hadn’t even gotten their food yet. 

 

Aaline was not fond of Margrethe. She hadn’t liked her before she knew her history with Ivar and she liked her even less now. The woman didn’t work and used Ubbe as her means of cash flow. She drank too much and made a fool of herself in public, embarrassing herself and the Lothbrok name.

 

Aaline may not enjoy the fact that her marriage was arranged against her will, but she was coming to terms with it. Made easier by the fact that Ivar was trying. He was making an effort to get to know her. He wasn’t pushing her into anything and he was forcing her to do things she didn’t want to do. He was learning about her, finding out what she liked, what she didn’t like, what had happened to her in the past, everything. Aaline couldn’t find it in herself to dislike him. She was coming to enjoy his presence. 

 

They had a lot in common. They were both loyal and determined. They enjoyed boxing and dealing with their problems head-on. They were not afraid to say what was on their minds and they protected the people they cared about. They both had tendencies towards violence. They responded with violence and fear. Ivar was not a good man but he took care of the people he cared about and Aaline was learning that she fell under that category. 

 

She found that she didn’t mind either. 

 

Aaline glanced up when Margrethe’s champagne flute wobbled and splashed orange juice across the table. She caught the glass before it tipped completely but her hand was sticky with juice. She cursed and wiped her hands against her napkin. Thora scoffed and Torvi rushed to help Margrethe clean up.

 

“Jesus, Margrethe, get a hold of yourself,” Thora whispered. The blonde glared under heavy brows at Thora but didn’t say anything. Torvi clucked her tongue and sat back in her seat. 

 

“Now, ladies, let’s not fight. This is supposed to be a nice brunch between sisters.” Torvi scolded. Her voice was light as if she was trying to play everything off. Margrethe huffed and straightened her shoulders, glaring at Thora but saying nothing. Sibylle watched the exchange but made no move to intervene.

 

Torvi painted on a tight smile and met Aaline’s eyes. She braced herself for the inevitable questions. 

 

“Aaline, how’s everything going with you and Ivar?” Aaline smiled at the anticipated question. She picked up her champagne glass and took a long drink.

 

She knew why Torvi had arranged this breakfast. It wasn’t to spend “quality time” with her sister-in-laws. Torvi wanted to make sure that Ivar hadn’t hurt Aaline.

 

Rumors about Ivar ran rampant through the city. He was violent and impulsive, acting first and asking questions later. He didn’t bother to fact check or talk to people. He acted on his impulses. He enjoyed hurting people and no one could stop him. There was never any physical evidence of his wrongdoings and the state had tried on more than one occasion to catch him breaking the law. Ivar was too smart to get caught. Plus, he had Ragnar’s money and support behind him. He was virtually untouchable. It helped that a lot of the people he “hurt” weren’t so great themselves. 

 

Gangsters, pimps, drug dealers, traffickers. Nine times out of ten, the people that Ivar dealt with were under investigation for various federal offenses. Ivar just got to them before the feds could. He wasn’t doing it out of the goodness of his heart, of course. Most of the time, they had either stolen from him, one of his brothers or his father, killed one of Ivar’s trusted men or infringed on territory that belonged to Ragnar. Sometimes, they just got too cocky and Ivar had to knock them down a peg, set an example. 

 

No one was willing to turn on Ivar so the feds could never make a case. 

 

Ivar was a dangerous man and no one knew it as much as his family. They had seen first hand what he was capable of. They knew what he could, and would, do to a person. 

 

Torvi just wanted to make sure that Ivar hadn’t done any of those things to Aaline. 

 

Aaline appreciated the thought, she really did. It was nice having people around that cared about her well-being. Torvi, however, had nothing to worry about. Ivar had been nothing but nice to her.

 

“It’s great, Torvi, thank you for asking.” Aaline smiled and set her glass down. Torvi hesitated before she nodded, looking towards Thora. Aaline nodded once, understanding. This was a team effort. Thora and Torvi had arranged this together. They were both worried. 

 

Aaline felt a warmth settle in her chest knowing that they cared for her. She didn’t have friends, just co-workers, and employees, so it was nice to know that there were women who cared about her.  

 

“I appreciate your concern, ladies, I really do, but everything is fine. Ivar and I have just been spending time together, getting to know each other. We have quite a bit in common, actually.” She shrugged and release a light laugh. “Who knew.” 

 

Margrethe snorted and shook her head. Aaline caught the movement and whipped her head to the side. Sibylle placed a placating hand on Aaline’s arm and squeezed but Aaline ignored her. She narrowed her eyes at the drunk woman next to her at the table.

 

“Do you have something to add, Margrethe?” Aaline’s voice was low and full of warning. Sibylle sucked in a sharp breath and tightened her hand on Aaline’s arm. Torvi and Thora watched with apprehensive eyes. 

 

Aaline watched Margrethe with cold eyes, waiting for the other woman to respond. She didn’t think Margrethe would but even cowards had moments of courage. Margrethe had been drinking so Aaline wouldn’t put it past her to suddenly find a deep-seated well of courage in her gut.

 

“Go on, Margrethe. If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t hold back on my account.” Aaline gave her a thin smile that was veiled with malice but Margrethe had been drinking and didn’t take the hint. She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, belying bravery she didn’t possess. Aaline almost felt pity for her.

 

“I don’t know how anyone could have anything in common with that animal.” She sniffed, avoiding the eyes of the other women who were staring at her in mixtures of shock and disdain. Aaline kept her expression blank and even, giving nothing away, allowing Margrethe the confidence to continue. 

 

“He’s cruel and violent. He even tried to kill me once.” She huffed and picked up her glass, taking a long sip, finishing the tangy liquid. Aaline frowned, nodding as if she were contemplating Margrethe’s words. She picked up her own glass and took a long drink.

 

Sibylle flicked her eyes between Margrethe and Aaline. She, at least, had some idea of what kind of woman Aaline was. She had alluded to it on the night of her wedding to Ivar and Sibylle had been careful around her ever since. Torvi and Thora had read Aaline’s file and knew about the childhood escapades she’d manufactured and had a pretty good idea of what exactly Aaline and Ivar had in common.

 

None of them, however, pitied Margrethe’s unfortunate faux pas. 

 

Aaline hummed and looked over at Margrethe, licking the remaining orange juice off her lips. The other woman at least had the decency to look a little nervous if not somewhat triumphant. Aaline almost felt bad for her. 

 

Aaline sighed and pulled her arm from underneath Sibylle’s hand. “Oh, Margrethe,” She tsked and shook her head, a cruel smile gracing her face. “Was that before or after you couldn’t get his cock to work?” 

 

Margrethe gasped and looked around at the other women. Torvi was ignoring her gaze, too busy adjusting the place setting before her. Thora was dutifully flagging down the waitress to ask about their food and Sibylle was burning holes into the side of Aaline’s head with the force of her stare. 

 

“How dare you. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Margrethe shuffled in her seat, folding her arms across her chest and looking away from Aaline’s accusing gaze. Aaline nodded and narrowed her eyes.

 

“I think I do. I am married to him, after all. If anyone would know whether his cock works or not, it would be me and it works just fine.” Aaline reached casually across the table for the pitcher of mimosa and poured herself another glass. She could feel Torvi and Thora and Sibylle’s eyes on her but kept her face blank.

 

All three of them knew that Ivar and Aaline did not share a wedding bed on their wedding night. They didn’t know that they continued to not share a bed. As far as Aaline was concerned, they could assume that Ivar and her were sleeping together regularly after this conversation. She didn’t much care. Ivar was her husband and she wasn’t going to let anyone disrespect him.

 

She stiffened when she felt a presence beside her and Thora brightened. 

 

“Hvitserk, what are you doing here?” She asked. Aaline felt a pressure on the back of her chair and glanced up to find Hvitserk resting his hand on the back of her chair.

 

She felt her face heat up but forced herself to look up at him. He searched her face, his eyes light and smiling. She blinked dumbly at the clear admiration she saw shining out of his eyes. She looked away and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, knowing that he had heard at least part of her exchange with Margrethe.

 

He turned to Thora. “You told me to come pick you up at eleven. Said you didn’t want to be late.” Thora nodded in recognition, glancing around at the other women. She shrugged demurely and smiled up at her husband. “I think I’ll stay. Our food hasn’t even arrived yet.” 

 

Hvitserk rested his gaze on each woman before nodding and coming around to his wife, kissing her forehead. He locked eyes with Aaline before departing back the way he’d come. She drew herself up straight and stared hard at each woman at the table. None of them said anything and Margrethe slouched lower in her seat. 

 

Aaline sat back as their food arrived. 

 

~*~

 

“Ivar, what are we even doing here? Thora’s supposed to make spaghetti bolognese tonight with handmade pasta.” Hvitserk said. There was a high pitch to his voice that set Ivar’s teeth on edge. 

 

Ivar had done his research and found out where Domonick Benjamina worked and had been watching him for several days. He had yet to visit his house but, for now, was content just watching him come and go from work. 

 

Ragnar was right when he said that Aaline effectively ruined Domonick’s life. 

 

The man wasn’t capable of walking outside without looking over his shoulder. He had dark circles under his eyes and he kept his hands buried deep in his pockets any time he left his office. A large man in a dark suit was always following him around and Ivar easily determined that man to be a bodyguard of sorts. 

 

Domonick Benjamina was officially paranoid. It didn’t matter how much money daddy had or what he did to protect himself. Aaline had terrorized him enough in his youth to make him a paranoid adult afraid of his own shadow. 

 

Ivar felt deep satisfaction at the state of her work but still had a gnawing need for vengeance. He glanced over at his brother. 

 

“I want you to help me frighten that man.” Hvitserk glanced lazily out the window and followed Ivar’s finger. He snorted and shook his head. 

 

“He already looks reasonably frightened. Look at the way he’s clutching his coat to his throat and, not to mention, the bodyguard two steps behind him. Whatever you want to do, he’s already afraid.” Hvitserk closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, feigning sleep. 

 

Ivar threw his arm out and smacked Hvitserk’s chest. Hvtiserk hissed and jerked up, cringing away from Ivar’s hand. 

 

“Alright. What do you want to do?” Hvitserk whined, rubbing his chest where Ivar smacked him. Ivar threw his brother a wicked grin and produced a silver beretta with a white grip and disengaged the safety. Hvitserk quirked an eyebrow and pulled out his own chrome Smith & Wesson, checking the clip. 

 

Ivar vaulted from the car and moved towards Domonick. Hvitserk moved towards the bodyguard, effectively cutting him off in the alley. Domonick glanced behind him when he heard the sounds of bodies colliding but Ivar was there. He gave Domonick a grin that the Devil himself would tremble before and pushed him into the alley. 

 

Domonick’s eyes widened at the sight of Hvitserk delivering a sharp kick to his bodyguards' midsection. The man was officially out of commission and Domonick was on his own. He held his hands up and began to plead. 

 

“Look, whatever you want, it’s yours. Money, drugs, whatever. I can get you what you want, just please don’t hurt me.” He cowered beneath Ivar’s gaze and only opened his eyes when Ivar began to laugh. Hvitserk grinned down at the trembling man and smacked Ivar’s shoulder. 

 

Ivar looked down at Domonick and pressed the muzzle of the run to his temple. Ivar sneered when the smell of urine reached his nose. He took a step back and glanced down at Domonick. The man had pissed himself but what was Ivar to expect from a coward.

 

Ivar growled and shoved Domonick back against the wall. “I don’t want your money. Don’t you know who I am?” Domonick peeked out from beneath his arm and examined Ivar’s face. Ivar nodded, pleased when recognition flooded Domonick’s face. 

 

“Please, Mr. Lothbrok, whatever you want, I can get it for you. I’ll talk to my father. I’m sure we can work something out.” Domonick continued to plead beneath Ivar. Ivar grinned and moved the muzzle of his gun beneath Domonick’s jaw. 

 

“If you know who I am, then I’m sure you’re familiar with my wife, no?” It took longer for Domonick to understand but when he did, the color drained from his face and his eyes widened. Ivar revelled in the fear that overcame Domonick Benjamina at that moment. 

 

“Mr. Lothbrok, please, that was such a long time ago. Your wife, she made her point. I understand now.” Domonick pressed his hands together in what Ivar could only assume was a poor mimicry of prayer. 

 

Ivar snorted and widened his stance, towering over Domonick. “You haven’t.” He moved the muzzle to Domonick’s other temple and stroked the man’s hair away from his face with the cool metal. Tears streamed down Domonick’s face as he gazed up at Ivar. 

 

“But you will.” Ivar finished. 

 

Later, Hvitserk was driving the car back to the estate while Ivar sat in the passenger seat wiping the blood off his hands. Hvitserk glanced over at him so many times that Ivar was getting annoyed. 

 

“If you have something to say, brother, just come out and say it.” Ivar snarked. Hvitserk snorted and shook his head, turning his eyes back to the road. 

 

“You and Aaline really are made for each other,” Hvitserk said. Ivar felt the sneer come over his face before he could stop it. He turned incredulous eyes towards his brother and Hvitserk nearly crashed the car he started laughing so hard. 

 

“What? You don’t believe me? Well, you didn’t hear what she said at brunch today with the women.” Hvitserk’s tone was superior and it made Ivar angry. He shoved his brother and Hvitserk cursed when the car swerved and he quickly righted them.

 

He glared at his younger brother and cleared his throat. “As I was saying. Margrethe was being her normal bitchy self and said some unpleasant things about you. Granted, it was all true but, even still, she shouldn’t have said them.” Ivar narrowed his eyes, wondering where exactly Hvitserk was going with this. 

 

“Aaline jumped right in and defended you. Told Margrethe she didn’t know what she was talking about where your,” Hvitserk cleared his throat and glanced over at Ivar. “Cock was concerned.” Ivar sat back and kept narrowed eyes on his brother. 

 

He and Aaline had yet to consummate their marriage and yet she had lied to Margrethe about her experience with his cock. He ignored his brother and continued to wipe the blood off his fingers. A new sense of pride in his wife bubbled up in his chest. She was willing to stand up for him, defend him when he wasn’t there to do so. 

 

That was an admirable trait in his book. Maybe Hvitserk was right and they were made for each other.  


	15. The Thought of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline thinks about Ivar. Together they learn more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a few weeks. I started school last week and my brother moved to college this weekend. Lots has been going on and I've been sidetracked and distracted. I'm going to try to get chapter 15 posted this week and then chapter 16 posted on Saturday so you'll have three chapters this week. Enjoy!

_ “Learning to trust someone is one of life’s most difficult tasks.” _

 

Life kept moving for Aaline and Ivar. She didn’t know that he went to visit Domonick and he didn’t know that she was his vehement defender when Margrethe spoke so negatively of him. They kept their secrets close to the vest but they still moved towards a cohesive relationship. 

 

They trained regularly in the gym, they sat next to each other at family dinners, they ate breakfast together in the mornings before work. They were bonding but neither one of them shared their attraction with each other. 

 

Aaline liked to admire his form in the afternoon while they trained. He was always dressed in loose athletic shorts and a form-fitting t-shirt or tank top. Both did an excellent job of showcasing the shape of his arms. The muscles stretched the fabric to a point that Aaline wasn’t surprised at the obvious strain in the shirt. 

 

She enjoyed watching him flex his hands before and after they spared. The veins and tendons were always the most prominent after they worked out. He had thick fingers that, she wasn’t ashamed to admit, she wanted to know what they felt like inside her. She spent several minutes in the morning and even longer at night wondering how much he would stretch her when he put his hands to good use. 

 

She had brought herself to orgasm more than once picturing his fingers working inside her walls and massaging her clit. The calluses she knew he had on his fingers and hands would be rough against the insides of her thighs and feeling them against her skin would bring goosebumps along her arms and legs. 

 

She was pleased to find that he watched her just as much as she watched him. She could feel his eyes on her as she stretched and, more than once, she’d heard him groan as she bent her body in ways that seemed impossible. 

 

She knew she was attractive and her inner goddess preened at the attention Ivar gave her. She would never tell him, at least not any time soon, that she was attracted to him. Maybe someday but they weren’t there yet. 

 

It was early in the morning and Aaline had just finished her daily routine of shower, orgasm, hair, and makeup in that order. 

 

She was heading to the kitchen for breakfast and found that Ivar had beat her there. He looked up from the pan on the stove and nodded to her before turning back. 

 

Aaline took the time to admire the long line of his back and the broad expanse of his shoulders as he cooked. She watched the muscles of his back shift and move beneath his sweater and felt heat settle low in her belly. She cleared her throat and shuffled over to the bar, setting her bag down on the granite surface before sitting. 

 

Ivar turned towards her with the pan and settled half of the eggs on the plate in front of her. She nodded her thanks and reached for the pitcher of orange juice and poured herself a glass. Ivar tipped the rest of the eggs on the plate in front of him and coated them in a healthy amount of salt.

 

Aaline laughed and he grinned. “Don’t laugh. I like flavor on my food. If there’s never enough flavor, you just need to add salt.” He said around a mouthful of eggs. She snorted and shook her head. 

 

“Where did you learn to cook?” She asked. She kept her eyes on her plate and waited for him to answer. They hadn’t discussed much outside of boxing and why they took it up. Ivar was a private person and so was she. She knew, though, that if they were going to form a cohesive relationship, they needed to share some stories. 

 

Ivar looked up at her. “My Aunt Helga. She had her own garden where she grew her own vegetables and fruits. She said that the way to a man’s heart may be his stomach but the way to a woman’s heart was a man who could cook.” He nodded to himself as he moved his eggs around on his plate. 

 

Aaline gave him a tender smile. “She’s right.” Ivar looked up at her and must’ve liked what he saw in her eyes because he smiled back and she saw color rise up his cheeks.

 

“I never learned how to cook.” She said. If there was one thing she regretted as an adult, it was her inability to cook. Of all the boarding schools she attended, she never wanted to take a cooking class. She was too busy feeling sorry for herself and plotting revenge to care about cooking. It wasn’t until she was living alone that she wished she could utilize her kitchen. 

 

“I spent every Sunday with Floki and Helga and she made sure that I cooked dinner with her. She was the best cook. Mother never learned. She said that that was what the help was for.” Ivar rolled his eyes and snorted. “I started cooking for my brothers when I was a teenager. I felt like that was the best way to spend time with them. Soon enough they were making requests.” 

 

Aaline grinned at him and his face lit up. “Mother thought I was degrading myself but I didn’t care. I was having fun and so were my brothers.” The smile slid off his face and he cleared his throat. “I stopped after mom died. It wasn’t until after Hvitserk got married that I started up again. I’m a little rusty but,” He looked up at her and smiled at her empty plate. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.” 

 

She nodded and shuffled her plate around, turning it in a circle. “I remember my mother used to cook pancakes for breakfast every Saturday. Chocolate chip with syrup and whipped cream. My dad never ate them, said they had too much sugar, but they were my favorite. I looked forward to them every weekend. I haven’t had them since before she died.” 

 

Ivar sighed deeply and nodded. “Lots changed after my mother died. None of us were the same.” Aaline nodded and cleared her throat. 

 

“Maybe now things can change for the better.” Ivar looked up at her and a small smile graced his face. 

 

“Chocolate chip pancakes with syrup and whipped cream does sound delicious.” Aaline laughed and nodded. 

 

“They are. It would be nice to have them again.” Ivar nodded and took their plates to the sink. Aaline watched him work and again admired his frame. 

 

If life continued like this, she didn’t think she would mind.


	16. Never Fallen From This High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline and Ivar are cornered by the brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, I suck. I wanted to update three times last week but things got crazy and I needed a few days to relax. My updating schedule is probably going to be pretty erratic for a while but hopefully, I get stuff posted at least once a week. Enjoy!

_ “You look at him and see the stars. He looks at you and sees the sun. Both think the other is looking at the ground.” _

 

Aaline had been working in her office for three hours where there was a knock on her door. The words “come in “ had barely left her mouth when the door opened. Hvitserk was standing there with an easy smile, adjusting his jacket sleeves. 

 

“Good morning, Aaline. How are you this fine day?” He continued to smile at her, almost maniacally. Aaline pushed slowly back from her desk and gave him a stilted smile. She stood and came around to the front of her desk.

 

“I’m doing well, Hvitserk. Can I ask what you’re doing here?” She asked. She leaned against the front of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest, studying him. 

 

Hvitserk struck her as a man who viewed the world with a glass-half-full mentality. He was a difficult person to dislike. He always had a smile on his face and Aaline often heard him and Thora laughing well into the night. He seemed to enjoy life and yet still knew when it was time to get to work. 

 

She had spent the most time with him as opposed to the other brothers. Björn had his own children to raise and look after and only spent working hours at the estate. He was mostly holed up in Ragnar’s study or with Lagertha at the office. Aaline usually only saw him during family dinners. 

 

Ubbe spent most of his time at the office and with Margrethe. Aaline often wondered why Ubbe had married Margrethe. She was incredibly high maintenance and spent a great deal of time drinking and lazing around the house. She brought nothing to the table and Ubbe spent most of his time pleasing her and making sure she felt comfortable. 

 

Aaline consciously kept her distance from Sigurd. She loved Sibylle. The woman was sweet and had a kind heart but all Aaline knew of Sigurd was malice. He made it a point to humiliate Ivar at every opportunity. He had nothing but rage and hatred in his heart for his brother and Aaline didn’t pretend to assume that that rage stopped with Ivar. Anything associated with Ivar, Sigurd found a reason to hate it. 

 

Hvitserk stepped further into Aaline’s office and settled his hands on the back of the plush chair in front of her desk. He continued to grin at her. 

 

“I wanted to see if you were busy. It’s nearly lunchtime. We could get brunch. There’s this French bistro a block down the street.” He jerked his head towards the door and his smile melted into an easy grin. 

 

Aaline contemplated for a few seconds but ultimately felt that she couldn’t refuse him. Part of her new role as Ivar’s wife was making nice with his family and Hvitserk was his favorite brother. If she wanted to maintain her positive relationship with Ivar, she should at least try to make friends with his brothers. She already did consider Hvitserk a sort of friend.

 

In all honesty, Hvitserk was more like an acquaintance or a work friend but her life, and the life of those around her would probably be easier if she was at least friends with the people that she interacted with regularly. Besides, she didn’t think Hvitserk would be a bad friend to have in her corner.

 

Hvitserk was quiet as they made their way down the street. Aaline wasn’t stupid. She knew that Hvitserk had invited her to brunch because there was something he wanted to discuss with her. She may have interacted with him the most but she didn’t know him. She didn’t know what he wanted to discuss and she didn’t know why. She was blind to his intentions. 

 

“I heard what you said.” He blurted. She looked over at him. He was the picture of the ease with his hands tucked inside his pockets and his face turned up towards the sun, relaxed. She opened her mouth to speak but he turned to her and continued. 

 

“At breakfast the other day with the other women. You were talking about Ivar.” Aaline looked away and nodded absently. She was familiar with the conversation he was referring to. Torvi had expressed concern for Aaline’s wellbeing and Margrethe had thought it was a good idea to express her opinion of Ivar in front of Aaline. 

 

Aaline was familiar with their history but Margrethe’s perspective was skewed. She liked to look at things based on how they affected her and not the big picture. Aaline was aware of Ivar’s reputation and knew that it was well deserved but few people were aware of Aaline’s reputation and how hard-earned it was. Aaline knew things about Ivar that Margrethe did not and she did not take kindly to the other woman besmirching her husband’s name because he’d hurt her feelings.

 

“No one’s ever defended him before.” Aaline was jolted from her thoughts by Hvitserk’s statement. She gave him a dubious look and he laughed. 

 

“Outside of the family, I mean.” He shook his head and sighed. 

 

“I was always his fiercest defender. Growing up, Ivar and I were the closest. Ubbe was too old, by the time Ivar could talk he was too busy showing off and chasing little girls around the playground. Sigurd largely ignored him. Mother coddled Ivar and neglected Sigurd and he was already resentful. That left me.

 

“I never wanted Ivar to feel lesser than any of us. He already knew he wasn’t like the rest of us and I didn’t want him to feel even more ostracized than he already was. I made it a point to be his defender, an advocate of sorts.” She could feel Hvitserk’s eyes on her but she kept her eyes straight ahead. They’d been walking for a while and Aaline had a feeling that he was leading her in circles, avoiding the restaurant in favor of continuing their discussion.

 

“Do you pity my brother, Aaline?” She jerked her head up to stare at him. His audacity threw her off-kilter and she didn’t know what to say. She blinked in bewilderment up at him, turning away without saying anything. She heard him chuckle and her hackles rose. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin high. 

 

“Forgive me for my forwardness. I still find myself wanting to protect Ivar and,” He heaved a sigh that sounded pained. “Aaline, you are an unknown and I need to make sure that Ivar will be protected.” He glanced down at her and sighed again.

 

“If that means I have to protect him from you, I will.” His voice was soft as it carried between the small space separating them. She held her head high and refused to answer him. He clicked his tongue and turned a corner, stopping in front of a small yet classy French bistro. He wrapped his hand around the handle and looked down at her. 

 

As she stepped forward to enter the restaurant, he spoke again. 

 

“I see the way you look at him, Aaline. I am not blind.”

 

She peered up at him and his face was free of any emotion but he looked honest, open.

 

Heat burst upon her cheeks and she looked away, nodding once. Hvitserk smirked and gestured her forward.

 

“After you, madam.” 

 

.

 

“What I don’t understand is why she left him alone, you know? Sure she got her revenge but why not keep it up? Make him afraid of his own shadow? Shit, I would’ve stalked the fuck outta him until he was afraid to leave his own house.”

 

Ivar rolled his eyes hissed when Ubbe failed to spot him in time. Ubbe chuckled as he reset the barbell and switched places with Ivar. Ivar stepped around to stand at Ubbe’s head and helped him lift the weight off the bench. Ubbe grunted as he lifted the weight.

 

“He  _ was _ afraid of his own shadow. The man was clearly in fear for his life. He had a constant bodyguard and he only ever left the house for the office and back again. She had him thoroughly scared.” Ivar watched Ubbe’s arms shift as he pressed the weight up off his chest and back down.

 

“Yeah but, like, I’d have someone follow him everywhere. Watch him walk to the office and back. I wouldn’t be satisfied until he was dead.” Ubbe said.

 

Ivar sneered and pressed down on the weight, delighting in the strain present on Ubbe’s face. He leaned down until his forehead was nearly touching Ubbe’s. The older man gasped beneath Ivar’s added weight and pressed back against him but Ivar had the superior upper body strength and easily kept Ubbe down. 

 

“The man may as well be. He can’t look over his shoulder with fear. My  _ wife _ has damaged him enough psychologically that anything I do  _ physically _ will never compare. The man is as good as dead.” Ivar kept his weight down just long enough for Ubbe to understand before he stepped back. 

 

Ubbe pushed the barbell up into its cradle and he sat up, heaving and sweating, his face red with exertion. He shook his head, wiping his hands on his towel, and glared over his shoulder at his brother.

 

“I’m not blind, brother.” Ubbe pronounced. Ivar quirked an eyebrow, his breath coming hard and his eyes flint. Ubbe shook his head and sighed, heaving himself up off the bench. 

 

“I see the way she looks at you.” Ubbe stood tall and met his brothers accusing glare. Ivar kept his mouth shut but his lip curled up in a snarl. Ubbe cracked a smile and shook his head, amused. This only made Ivar angrier and he hissed, taking a step towards his brother. Ubbe raised in hands in placation and bowed his head. 

 

“I meant no offense.” Ubbe looked back up at Ivar and nodded once. Ivar relaxed only a little and kept his eyes on Ubbe. 

 

“I only meant that she watches you as much as you watch her.” Ubbe drew his eyebrows together and looked Ivar up and down. He was standing defensively as if he expected Ubbe to attack him. Ubbe shook his head and clicked his tongue.

 

“Jesus, Ivar, do you really not see it? She wants you. It’s the clearest thing in her eyes whenever she’s looking at you.” Ubbe watched as Ivar’s face went from aggressive to contemplative. It seemed Ivar hadn’t taken the time to really look at his wife. Either that or he was blind.

 

“Ivar, Aaline is a beautiful woman.” Ubbe held his hands up in submission when Ivar growled and took a threatening step forward. Ivar kept his hands fisted at his sides but let his brother continue.

 

“She’s beautiful and men notice. What are you going to do when someone propositions her?” Ubbe quirked a brow in triumph when Ivar’s eyes narrowed and he snarled low in his throat. 

 

“She’s a good woman, Ivar. She won’t go behind your back but,” Ubbe took a step forward and bowed his head low, keeping his head close to Ivar’s.

 

“Someone will try to take her from you if you’re not careful. Do something about the looks that she sends you.”


	17. Need You Like I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline make their first public appearance as a couple. Ivar is done being careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so, this past month has been crazy. I had two weddings, out of town, a concert, work deadlines, evening meetings, football games. It’s been a hectic few weeks. Hopefully, things will start to get back to normal and I can update at a more regular pace but we’ll see. So sorry for the long wait.

_ “If we could live without passion, maybe we could know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we’d be truly dead.” _

_ ~Joss Whedon _

 

Ivar was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He was dressed to impress in a navy suit and a burgundy tie that matched her dress. His shoes were patent leather and the light shining off of them nearly blinded her. His hair was slicked back like an old school greaser with the back set in a complicated pattern of swirls. She was waiting for him to pull a cigarette from behind his ear.

 

He was waiting for her to come down the stairs so they could attend Ragnar’s benefit. Every year, Ragnar hosted a huge charity auction to raise funds for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Every year he invited hundreds of the upper echelons to swoon over his estate and auction off various pieces of art that had been “donated”.

 

She used the term donated loosely because most of the pieces Ragnar auctioned had been taken from the territories he conquered or bought. The pieces typically belonged to whoever had owned the estate that Ragnar eventually came to own. Ragnar offered the artifacts first to his children and if they didn’t want any or all of it, he would stockpile it to his yearly benefit.

 

No one could say that Ragnar wasn’t a generous man. The pieces he sold went for upwards of half a million dollars and that was usually on the low side. Ragnar cared, Aaline could give him that. But his caring nature only extended as far as those who stayed on his good side. Anyone who crossed him had the misfortune of experiencing his wrath. 

 

Aaline knew all too well that Ragnar did not offer many second chances.

 

She had gone shopping with Lagertha and Torvi earlier that week to pick out her dress. They had asked what colors she liked and, at first, she didn’t know how to answer them. Her father hadn’t been much for parties and, when he did have them, she was away at boarding school. She wasn’t much for fancy parties.

 

Torvi made some suggestions. She pointed out that Aaline liked to wear lots of dark and neutral colors. Burgundy was a staple among her wardrobe so they shopped around for the color in a variety of dresses. 

 

In the end, she settled for a simple yet elegant floor-length gown. It was a mermaid fit with a gentle flare at the bottom. It was strapless but the neckline plunged and showed a healthy amount of cleavage. 

 

Aaline felt beautiful in it. 

 

She opted to keep her jewelry simple. The dress wasn’t too extravagant so she didn’t feel the need to make her jewelry so. She wore the same pearl necklace that she wore on her wedding day and some simple pearl studs on her ears.

 

Her hair was styled up and off her face and she kept her makeup light and natural. When she looked in the mirror before she headed downstairs, Sibylle had been crying. Aaline asked her why she was crying and Sibylle was at a loss for words. She’d finally been able to get out that Aaline looked like a princess from some fairytale. 

 

Aaline had tried not to laugh but pulled the woman into her arms and wiped the tears from her face. 

 

She was finding that it was easy to let Sibylle in. She had never had a closer relationship with a woman than she did with Sibylle. The timid brunette was kind and didn’t shy away from the things that Aaline had done. She was honest and kind and made Aaline feel welcome at a time when she felt out of place.

 

Ivar was a close second.

 

Their relationship at first had been rocky but with time and patience, they developed a bond that she felt a lot of couples didn’t have. There was an honesty in their relationship that a lot of people hid from others. She knew exactly what kind of man Ivar was and what he was capable of and vice versa. 

 

They largely didn’t have any secrets. Ivar had shown his darker side before they were even married and Aaline had threatened Ivar enough that he knew what she was capable. They developed a true and open relationship from the beginning and build their trust organically. She honestly couldn’t have asked for a better partner if she tried.

 

She had spent the last few weeks tamping down her feelings for Ivar. She was attracted to him, yes, but she wasn’t ready to go beyond physical attraction. 

 

She knew that he could take care of her in more ways than one. He had shown her his compassionate side weeks after their wedding. She knew that he cared about people. His willingness to do everything and anything to protect his family was more than enough to convince her of his lighter side. 

 

Regardless of her building feelings, her heart was too fragile to be opened up to possible rejection. No matter how many times Hvitserk implied that Ivar returned her feelings, it wasn’t enough for her to feel comforted.

 

She came to rest at the bottom of the stairs and cleared her throat. Ivar turned his head and his lips parted in a quiet exhale. She blushed under his gaze as it traveled from her head to her toes and back again. 

 

She saw his throat bob as he straightened. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. She smiled down at him as he struggled to speak. He adjusted the lapels of his coat and cleared his throat before trying again.

  
“Aaline, you look…” He sighed and looked her up and down again. Her smile widened and she took his offered hand. 

 

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She said. He grinned and escorted her off the steps and towards the front door.

 

“You really do look amazing, Aaline. That dress…” He paused again as his eyes took in the way the dress hugged her curves and accentuated her figure. Her laugh was light and airy and she tugged his arm closer to her. 

 

Ivar pulled the door open to the town car and gestured Aaline inside.

 

She settled back against the smooth leather and gazed out the window. She felt Ivar ented behind her and close the door, the car lurching beneath them as it moved. 

 

“Where is the benefit?” She asked. 

 

Ivar adjusted the sleeves of his shirt and jacket and glanced over at her, his eyes lingering on her neck and shoulders. Aaline struggled not to preen under his hungry gaze.

 

“Father’s first building. After he defeated Earl Haraldson, he inherited the building. To this day it still serves as the foundation for what The Northmen is today. It’s not used for much more than his benefits and charity auctions but it’s the main headquarters for all of Ragnar’s charitable foundations and giveaways. The top floor has the best view of the city so Ragnar hosts his auctions there as a reminder of where he came from and how easy it is to get back there.”

 

Aaline was mesmerized as Ivar revealed just another part of his life to her. 

 

They spent the rest of the ride in silence though it was comfortable.        

 

When they arrived at the party, guests were walking in like it was a grand movie premiere. Cameras flashed from every angle, voices rose above the din of the city in waves, women were ushered from their vehicles by smart men dressed in black, the lights shining of their hair and shoes. 

 

A man pulled the door open and Ivar got out first. He stood by the door and bent slightly at the waist, sticking his hand just inside the door, meeting Aaline’s eyes. She took his hand, his fingers enveloping hers in warmth, and let him tug her out of the town car.

 

She stood tall next to him, regal. They were a striking image and reporters scrambled over each other to get a picture. 

 

Ivar and Aaline’s “whirlwind romance” had been the talk of the town since news of their engagement had broken. Everyone had been surprised, for obvious reasons. Lothbrok was a household name. They had stock in both UPS and FedEx with shipping locations on both coasts as well as internationally. Not to mention the vineyards and wineries that Ragnar ran on the West Coast as well as the fine dining experiences he offered on the East Coast, they were Kardashian famous with Gambino reputations. 

 

When Ivar, the upper Echelon's most eligible bachelor, showed up on the front page of every major magazine in his wedding attire, it was all any entertainment show could talk about. How long had they been dating? Where did they meet? Who was Aaline Jensen? Why had nobody known about their relationship?

 

Following their wedding, Ivar and Aaline had not made one public appearance so a lot of news broadcasts and entertainment gurus wondered if it was all a hoax. Various images of Aaline and Ivar leaving their respective offices cropped up around town but nobody could catch them together.   

 

As Ragnar’s benefit grew closer, reporters began to wonder if Ivar and Aaline would arrive together. 

 

To say they went crazy for her and Ivar was an understatement. 

 

Ivar was used to their flashing lights and shouting voices but Aaline was overwhelmed. Ivar could feel her body tense against his side so he made it a point to usher her quickly into the hall. 

 

There were only two reporters that Ragnar trusted implicitly and they were the only ones allowed inside access to the benefit. Each worked for a different magazine but was well known to keep their stories honest and factual while still keeping things close to the vest. The fact that their respective papers didn’t know that they were close with Ragnar _ before _ they became reporters, well, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

 

Guests were mingling around the room, chatting amicably and drinking champagne to the sounds of soft jazz. Ivar took two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and handed one to Aaline. She accepted graciously and saw Torvi with Sibylle across the room. She turned to Ivar and whispered softly that she was going to speak with Torvi and he nodded, watching her walk away.

 

Ivar was a man. A red-blooded man as well. He knew when women were attractive whether he was attracted to them or not. 

 

His wife was attractive.

 

She was utterly stunning in her floor-length burgundy dress that complimented her smooth skin and dark hair perfectly. Strands of her hair hung down around her face and brushed her neck and shoulders softly, the way he wanted to. 

 

He wanted to trail his fingers down the bare skin of her back and watch goosebumps rise. He wanted to press his lips feather-light against her neck and listen to her moan. He wanted the calluses of his palms to catch on the soft skin of her thighs as he slowly tugged her dress down her body. 

 

He wanted all these things and, watching her walk away from him now, he wanted them tonight. 

 

He could see the eyes of other men watching her as he walked across the room. He could see the way they longed to possess her written in the lines of desire on their face and the burning lust in their eyes. 

 

He felt a great wave of rage sweep over him and recalled Ubbe’s words.  _ Someone will try to take her from you if you’re not careful.  _

 

Ivar was done being careful.

 

He’d always been a man of action and he was never one to hesitate in going after what he wanted. He wanted his wife and tonight he was going to take her. 

 

He downed his champagne and set the empty flute on a passing tray. He straightened his shoulders and ignored Hvitserk’s hand as he passed by his brothers.

 

As soon as she started to walk away, she could feel his eyes on her. They burned the back of her neck and she could feel the heat rising up in her neck and face. 

 

Torvi hadn’t seen her yet but Sibylle was watching her closely. She could see the other woman’s eyes narrow as she watched Aaline walk towards her. When Sibylle’s eyes widened marginally, Aaline stopped and tilted her head slightly to one side. She gasped when a strong hand gripped hers and she was tugged away from the crowd into an alcove behind the bar. 

 

Ivar pressed her up against the wall, his body crowding hers. He breathed down into her face and scanned his eyes over her body. Aalined kept her eyes locked on his face as his warm breath fanned across her cheeks, blowing her hair away from her face. 

 

Ivar’s hands rested on either side of her head against the wall, his forehead centimeters from her own.

 

She could feel the heat coming off of him in waves. His eyes were nearly black with want and his nostrils flared wide every time he exhaled. 

 

She felt trapped but not in a bad way. This was a chase that she was willing to get caught for. She could already taste the sweetness of her capture on the back of her tongue. She was just waiting for Ivar to catch her. 

 

He met her eyes and brought shaking fingers down to her cheek. She shivered when he brushed her hair behind her ear. 

 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He asked. His voice was raspy with lust and she felt chills race down her spine. 

 

He settled his hand on the curve of her neck, his fingers tapping out a rhythm against her pulse. She sucked in a shaky breath and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She delighted in how his eyes snapped down to the movement. 

 

She brought a hand up to his cheek, tracing her fingers of the sharp line of his cheekbone. She ghosted them down across his jaw and neck, thrilling in the shivers that overcame his shoulders. She watched her fingers move across his shoulder and chest, down his abdomen, tight even through all his layers. 

 

He inhaled sharply when her hand closed tight around the hardness pressing against the front of his pants. She stared at her hand cupped against the front of him before she brought her lust blown eyes up to his own. She squeezed experimentally and her mouth dropped open at the full-body shiver that overtook his frame and the masculine grown that fell from his lips. 

 

When he brought his eyes up to her own, she pressed her forehead firmly to his and bumped their noses, allowing the tip of her tongue to graze curve of his upper lip. 

 

She answered him. 

 

“Yes.” 


	18. Bring Me Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaline and Ivar get hot and heavy. Aelle betrays Ragnar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. These last few months have been pretty difficult for me. My grandma died unexpectedly in October and I had to go out of town for a few days. It's been pretty hard on my dad so I haven't exactly been in the writing spirit. School has been pretty busy and any downtime that I have is spent numbing my mind to the ridiculousness that is being a high school teacher. I sincerely appreciate everyone who has kept up with my work and I hope I'll be able to update again soon.

_ “We lie in each other’s arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.” _

_ ~Marge Piercy  _

 

For the sake of his father, Ivar and Aaline had managed to linger at the party for an hour. It was difficult, to say the least, but they managed. 

 

An hour was too much for Ivar though and he quickly said his goodbyes and settled a gentle hand on the small of his wife’s back. 

 

Aaline felt the heat like a flame licking at her skin. She shivered under his touch and smiled warmly at Torvi and Thora as she passed them. Sibylle met her eyes on the way out and her questioning gaze was ignored. 

 

Ivar hurried them out the back door where the town car was waiting. Aaline didn’t ask how the driver knew to meet them. 

 

Ivar pulled the door open and gestured her inside. She ducked her head and slid across the smooth leather to the other side of the bench seat. Ivar slid in beside her and they were off.

 

The anticipation had set her skin on edge. Her blood was pumping in her ears and her hands tingled. Goosebumps rose up on her arms and her heart was pounding out a steady rhythm, fast, against her breast. Her chest was rising and falling quickly and she could feel the blush coloring her cheeks like fire. 

 

She glanced at Ivar across the seat from her. He was watching her raptly, his eyes trailing over her flushed face and down the rising slope of her chest as she breathing in and out. Her mouth dropped open when his tongue peeked out and traced his lower lip, his eyes blown wide with lust. 

 

She dragged her fingers up the curve of her knee, her dress hiking up along the way. Ivar’s eyes followed the movement and she grew bold.

 

She curled her fingers deeper into the soft fabric, feeling suddenly confined in its seams. The bottom of the dress bunched at her thighs and she lifted her hips, hooking the skirt beneath her. 

 

Ivar kept his gaze transfixed on her flesh, enraptured by the feast of supple skin laid out before him. He gripped the handle of the door until his knuckles were white and his palm throbbed. 

 

Aaline kept her eyes trained on her husband’s face as she ghosted her fingers of the curve of her thigh. She shivered as she traced her fingertips featherlight against the inside of her thigh, knowing that Ivar caught the movement. A muscle in his cheek twitched and a deep growl settled low in his throat. 

 

She settled her left hand on the inside of her thigh, slowly bringing her right hand up, following a similar path as before. She shifted her hips, widening her knees for more room and Ivar tensed beside her. 

 

His knuckles were white and the leather was straining under his hands. A visible bulge was pressing painfully against the front of his pants and a well of pride filled her chest.

 

She brought her eyes back up to his face and watched.

 

Her left hand came down between her legs and she hooked her fingers under the edge of her panties and exposed her core. She heard Ivar take a deep breath in and groan. She smirked and settled her fingers over her center, dragging the wetness up and across her clit. She hummed low in her throat and felt her eyes drift shut.

 

“Open your eyes.” Ivar’s voice didn’t have to carry far to be heard. She snapped her eyes open and kept them locked on his face. His gaze was transfixed on the movement between her legs, his chest rising and falling in rapid puffs. 

 

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and circled her fingers over her clit, dragging more slick as she needed it. 

 

Her hips began to rock in little curls as she felt her orgasm draw closer. Soft little moans left her throat each time she circled her clit. 

 

She continued even as the car came to a stop outside their home. She only froze when Ivar’s hand settled hot and heavy on the top of her thigh, the tips of his fingers brushing the back of her hand. She brought her eyes to his and a dangerous glint set his blue eyes on edge. 

 

Her legs were shaky but Ivar helped her out of the car. He kept his hand in hers as they neared the house, ignoring the kind smiles and “good evenings” that came from the staff. Ivar’s eyes felt like a brand on her back as they ascended the stairs. 

 

She led them to Ivar’s room and if he was surprised he covered it well. She glanced over her shoulder before pushing the door open. Ivar was on her before the door had a chance to close.

 

She gasped against his lips as his tongue invaded her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him push her towards the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for him but he sidestepped her. She frowned and opened her mouth to object but he pushed her back to lie down. She watched him with hooded eyes and he went to work.

 

First, he removed his jacket and tie, loosening the neck of his button-down as he went. Then he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbows, exposing thick forearms to her viewing pleasure. Next, he crouched down at her feet, smoothing his hands up her thighs under her dress. 

 

The calluses on his palms rubbed deliciously against her legs, sending shocks of pleasure to her core. The ball of need that had settled in her belly as they walked inside was burning anew. She arched her neck and moaned, widening her knees to make space for his shoulders. 

 

Ivar grinned and pressed his lips to the outside of her knee, poking his tongue out to taste skin. His eyes dropped shut as her taste settled in the back of his throat. 

 

He hooked his fingers in the edge of her panties and slowly pulled them down. She tilted her hips to help him along and shivered at the anticipation that welled up in her throat. 

 

Her pussy was throbbing with need and she could already feel the wetness coating her thighs.

 

Ivar tugged her panties off and away into his pocket. He continued his trail up her legs, ghosting his lips up her thighs, switching off from left to right as he went. He dragged his nose across the bone of her hips and pressed his lips just above the thatch of curls covering her center.

 

Her stomach clenched and she arched against his lips, trembling. Ivar drew his hands up her legs, hooking has arms beneath her knees and settling them low on her hips. He nosed at her belly before trailing down.

 

His chin nicked her clit on the way down and she gasped. Ivar hummed and blew gently across her exposed center, the cool air sending shivers down her spine and a fresh wave of wetness to her core. 

 

The anticipation was the worst. She knew it was coming, had been waiting for it for over an hour and Ivar was content to continue to let her wait. Her nerves were frayed like a live wire and she felt that any kind of touch would send her over the edge. Her whole body stiffened when the flat of his tongue licked long and slow over her pussy. 

 

She brought her hands down to his head and curled her fingers in his hair. He circled his tongue around her clit, drawing it between his lips and sucking gently. She arched and cried out, her fingers tightening in his hair. 

 

Ivar switched often from soft licks against her clit to long strokes across the entire length of her pussy. Enough to keep her on edge but not to send her into orgasm. 

 

Sweat had settled along her forehead and beneath her breasts. Heat was heavy in her face and along her chest. Her nipples chafed against the fabric of her dress.

 

She arched her back, dragging her nails across his scalp. She gave a full-body shudder as Ivar brought his mouth back up to her clit, sucking the tender flesh between his lips. 

 

Goosebumps rose up on her arms and she shuddered again. The lips of her pussy fluttered against Ivar’s lips and he dragged his eyes up her frame.    
  


She had never looked more beautiful then. Her face was flushed and her back arched off the bed. The muscles in her arms and legs were straining against the onslaught of pleasure that wracked her frame. Ivar pulled his mouth from her clit and she whined. He gazed at in wonder before he climbed up her frame. 

 

She held his face in her hands as he settled over her and smiled. She arched her neck and pressed her lips firmly against his, taking in her taste mixed with his. Ivar moaned against her lips, breaching the seam and tonguing the inside of her mouth. She moaned and dragged her hands down his chest, hooking her hands in the waist of his pants. 

 

He brought a hand down to help and had begun to tug himself free of his boxer briefs when there was an urgent knock at the door.

 

Aaline tightened her limbs around him and shook her head. 

 

“Ignore it.” She whispered. 

 

She trailed her lips across his jaw and mouthed at his earlobe. Ivar groaned and brushed the head of his cock through her folds, gathering her wetness. 

 

They knocked again and Ivar groaned, dropping his head against her chest. Aaline sighed and rolled her eyes, dropping her arms from his shoulders and relaxing her knees. Ivar leaned back and stared down at her, his eyes longing. 

 

Another knock and the call of his name. 

 

Ivar closed his eyes and pushed himself up and off of her. He righted his pants and adjusted himself back inside, walking towards the door. He glanced at her to make sure she was covered and, when she nodded, opened the door.

 

Björn stood, breathing heavily, with his hands on his hips. He glanced once inside the room before turning his eyes back to Ivar. 

 

“Aelle has betrayed us,” Björn said.

 

Ivar tensed and blew out a quick breath from his nose. His teeth gnashed together almost painfully and he dropped his head between his shoulders.

 

“What happened?” He asked between clenched teeth.

 

“A group of men went to retrieve the money that father arranged, 25% of Aelle’s annual income. The money was not there. Just an empty chest and an ambush.” Björn glanced in the room again and offered a tense smile to Aaline. She nodded back and stood, retreating to the bathroom. Ivar turned his head, listening. When the shower switched on, he turned back to his brother.

 

He ignored the smug look on Björn’s face and pushed him into the hall. They began to walk. 

 

“How many men did we lose?” He asked. He shoved his sleeves further up his arms, already knowing where Ragnar would want to go.

 

“Not that many. Aelle was overconfident. Our men easily dispatched his and we only lost two.” Ivar glanced at his brother, wordlessly asking for names. Björn bit his lip and sighed before answering.

 

“Leif and Torstein.” Ivar cursed and swung himself around the top of the stairs. He and Björn lumbered down the stairs, the front door already open and a car waiting. 

 

“Father and the others are already at the warehouse. I can only assume that they’re discussing what to do with Aethelwulf.” Ivar snorted and glanced at his oldest brother, hoping he wasn’t being facetious.

 

“Kill him. That’s what we’re going to do.” Ivar retorted.

 

.

 

“You’re brother and I had an arrangement, Aethelwulf. 25% of his annual income for your safe return. We were going to deliver on that promise, today, in fact, but your brother had to go and betray me.” 

 

Ragnar paced in front of Aethelwulf, holding a dagger loosely in his hand. Aethelwulf sat with his head hung low and his arms tied behind his back. Blood dripped from several wounds on his face. 

 

“I didn’t even ask for 25% every year. Just one payment of 25% of what he made this year. I think that’s more than generous considering the circumstances.” Ragnar stopped pacing and crouched in front of Aethelwulf. 

 

“You know what I have to do now, do you not?” Ragnar cocked his head, listening for any words from Aethelwulf. A soft rattle left the man as he took a breath. Ragnar nodded once and stood, stepping around Aethelwulf. He wrapped a hand beneath the man's chin and tilted it back until the top of his head was pressed against Ragnar’s stomach. 

 

Ragnar grinned at his sons and slid the blade into the side of Aethelwulf’s neck. The man jerked and choked before Ragnar dragged the blade up and then out. Blood poured from the wound and Aethelwulf sputtered, his legs and arms jerking uselessly. 

 

It wasn’t long before the man was dead, his head hanging lifelessly between his shoulders. Ragnar wiped the dagger clean on Aethelwulf’s shoulder before stepping back around him. He glanced at the body before turning to his sons. 

 

“Have a car come around. Send him back to Aelle. Let him see what his treachery has cost him.”


	19. Every Heart is Built to Bend and Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men discuss the repercussions of Aelle's betrayal. Aaline and Ivar have their first fight as a couple. A wedding unites two houses.

_ “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars.” ~ Khalil Gibran _

 

“Aelle is going to retaliate. We can’t _ kill _ his brother and not expect some kind of action.”  Björn sighed. 

 

Ivar drew his eyebrows together, confused. “I don’t remember hearing your voice protest to Aethelwulf’s demise. If you were so against it, maybe you should’ve spoken up, brother.” He drolled. Björn glared and straightened from his hunched position over the map of territories. 

 

“I wasn’t saying that I protested. Merely that we should have considered all options before sending his body back to Aelle.” Björn huffed.

 

Ivar narrowed his eyes and his smile grew cold. “What are you saying, Björn? Leif and Torstein weren’t worthy of immediate restitution? Their deaths meant nothing as long as Aethelwulf made it back to Aelle, _ alive _ ? What  _ exactly _ are you saying, brother?” Ivar enjoyed watching Björn’s face go from pale to red to nearly purple as his rage mounted.

 

It had been several days since Aethelwulf’s body had been sent back to Aelle rather unceremoniously. Ivar had been the one to push him out of the car as it screeched around Aelle’s circle drive in their haste to return him. Other than a clipped obituary sent in a blank envelope two days ago, they hadn’t heard anything from Aelle. 

 

“Children, please, fighting will not solve anything. Aethelwulf is dead. We didn’t kill him absent the knowledge that Aelle would retaliate. We know he’s going to retaliate. We just need to act first.”

 

Ragnar had been running them ragged since Aelle’s attack. None of them had slept much in the last seven days or so. Ragnar often kept them late into the night and well into the early hours of the morning before they all retired to their respective rooms. Björn hadn’t slept in his own bed beside his wife in almost a week which might explain his foul mood. Ivar didn’t have such a problem.

 

He smirked thinking about his wife’s body beside him at night. She was often asleep when he came to bed but would occasionally wake when he climbed in. She would turn to face him and curl her body against his front, burying her nose in his neck and tangling their legs together. 

 

Ivar wasn’t sure if she knew how deeply she tangled them together when he came to bed but he didn’t mind admitting that he enjoyed it. He liked feeling her soft curves against his chest. Her hair splayed out on the bed behind her and Ivar liked to fall asleep stroking the long strands.

 

Once or twice, he’d woken her with his tongue pressed against her folds. She had gasped awake, her hands quickly moving to his hair and her hips rolling against the press of his tongue against her. 

 

He liked to use those moments as a learning opportunity, using her body’s unconscious reactions to learn what she liked. She hadn’t protested and tried to take it further but Ivar was quick to quell her motions, content with just the taste of her to fall asleep to. Aaline never said anything the next morning but he noticed her secret smiles at dinner and her soft blushes when he came into a room she was already occupying.

 

In truth, he was waiting for a time when she wasn’t half-asleep to take her for the first time. He wanted her to be awake when he first slipped inside her. He wanted her to watch as he claimed her. 

 

The very thought brought blood rushing to his cock and he had to adjust in his seat to hide his sudden arousal from his brothers. Hvitserk gave him a brief look before smirking and turning back to their father. 

 

“What do you suggest father?” He asked. 

 

Ragnar sat at his desk with steepled fingers, his lips slightly pursed. “We wait. We don’t act. We prepare for an attack but we don’t attack. We’ve made our move. It’s Aelle’s turn.”

 

Ivar snorted and all eyes swiveled to him. He shook his head and met his father’s piercing blue gaze with one of his own. “We need to act first. If we wait, Aelle could attack and we’d take a more devastating blow than if we had acted.

 

“Ecbert and Aelle have a wedding coming up. Their son and daughter respectively. I say we strike there, where they’re least expecting it. Their numbers will be severely impacted and they’ll have to move closer to an alliance.”

 

Ragnar watched his youngest son the entire time he spoke. It was a good idea but one Ragnar would refuse. 

 

“I will not attack an innocent woman on her wedding day. We will afford the same courtesy to them as they did to us. The wedding will proceed without a disturbance.”

 

Ivar sneered. “What  _ courtesy _ are you referred because I seem to remember Ecbert and Aelle pulling you from the reception to discuss business. Aethelwulf the younger put his hands on my wife. Or did you attend a different ceremony?” Ivar gestured wildly as he spoke, his anger rising.

 

Ragnar continued to regard his youngest son with a collected eye. “It was the engagement party where Aethelwulf spoke to Aaline so she wasn’t your wife yet.” Ivar snorted and leaned back heavily in his chair, shaking his head. 

 

“And I don’t care if Ecbert and Aelle interrupted your party to discuss business. We _ will _ be the bigger man and leave their wedding uninterrupted. We will wait for any action and prepare for any attack. Do I make myself clear?” 

 

All his other sons nodded and grunted their affirmation. He could tell they were unhappy with his decision but would not voice their displeasure quite as vehemently as Ivar. Ragnar gazed at his son until his own eyes stared back at him with barely contained rage.

 

“Ivar? Am I clear?”

 

Ivar heaved a deep sigh, his chest rising high before he gave one swift nod. “Crystal.”                  

 

“It is late.” Ragnar glanced down at his watch and grunted. He walked to the window and pushed the blinds open. All the men groaned when sunlight streamed in through the window.

 

“I stand corrected.” He turned back to his family, hands on his hips, smiling.

 

“It is early. Go to bed. Sleep next to your wives for a few hours.” He smirked and clapped his hands once, leaving his sons alone in the room.

 

.

 

The sun was bright as it came in through the window. Aaline’s eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the light. She closed her eyes again and sighed, turned onto her back and stretching her arms above her head. She reached out to the other side of the bed and frowned when she didn’t feel her husband.

 

She turned her head and opened her eyes. The blankets were still neatly tucked around the edge of his side, his pillow still plump. 

 

Ivar had not come to bed last night.

 

The last few days had been hectic. The men had been scrambling for a plan on how to move against Aelle. Every night for the last five or so days, Ragnar had kept his men busy. The boys were being pulled in all different directions, moving from warehouse to warehouse to Ragnar’s war room to the dock where Leif and Torstein had been killed. 

 

Aethelstan was working the case and had been attending as many meetings as he could. Between appearances at the police station and chasing down leads, Aethelstan wasn’t around for as much of Ragnar’s briefings as they had hoped. 

 

Most mornings, Aaline would wake up to the movement of Ivar getting into bed. When she had checked the clock, it typically read anywhere from three to six o’clock in the morning. Ragnar was running his men ragged and it clearly wasn’t going to get any better. 

 

It was almost eight o’clock this particular morning and Ivar had yet to make it to bed.

 

Aaline sighed and shifted out of bed, swinging her legs over the side. Ever since that first night nearly a week ago, Aaline had taken to sleeping in Ivar’s room. He didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he preferred it. 

 

The first night after their unfortunate interruption, Aaline had been waiting up for Ivar in his room, reading her novel with all the lights off except her small reading lamp. Ivar had trudged in, dragging his feet and slouching his shoulders, both actions bad for his hips, stripped himself down to his boxers and climbed into bed, wrapping his arm around her waist as he did it. When she had made a move to retreat to her own room, Ivar had grunted and tugged her sharply against him. 

 

Aaline had taken it for the sign it was and settled herself into bed against him. Things continued much the same until one-night Aaline woke to the feeling of a hot tongue probing her weeping entrance and an orgasm rocking through her frame. She’d clutched tightly at Ivar’s hair, her knuckles throbbing, as he continued to lap at her core. 

 

Her second orgasm had startled her not only in its intensity but in the rapid way it assaulted her body. She’d arched high off the bed and bracket his head with her thighs, trembling against his tongue as he gently licked her. She was covered in sweat and shaking as she pulled him up her frame. When she tried to pull his stiff length from his sleep pants, he’d carefully pushed her hand away and curled up behind her, stroking her hair until she fell quickly back into a deep sleep.

 

Twice Ivar had done this and both times he hadn’t let her pull him inside her body. She wasn’t sure what his resistance was for. She knew he was eager enough for it and she was more than willing to take him inside her but for some reason, he wouldn’t move beyond licking her to blinding orgasms.    

 

It was almost a week ago since his nightly activities had stared and Ivar hadn’t said anything to her about going back to her own room. She was tempted to move all her things in but she wasn’t sure if they were there yet. 

 

She pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail and ventured into the bathroom, turning the shower on as she went. 

 

She was in the process of washing her face when she heard the bedroom door slam. She poked her head around the door and saw Ivar pacing the length of the room much like a caged animal. She tugged a towel from the rack and dried her face before exiting the bathroom. 

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. 

 

Ivar looked up at her and nearly lost his anger. She was dressed in the same thing she had worn to bed that night.  

 

She had pulled her robe on over one of his gray t-shirts. Her feet were bare and if she lifted her arms he’d be able to see her panties. Her black robe hung down around her shoulders nearly brushing the floor. It was untied and the belt trailed behind her on the ground. 

 

His anger almost melted away but his heart was still pounding and he could feel his blood rushing beneath his skin. His fingers were tingling and a sound similar to a jet engine was filling his ears. He couldn’t think straight.

 

He continued to pace, growling low in his throat. Aaline narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

“Ivar, what’s wrong?” She asked again. He snarled and rounded on her. 

 

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Can’t I just be angry?” He growled. Her eyebrows shot up and she dropped her arms, her palms slapping the sides of her legs. 

 

“I suppose. Something’s bothering you though. What happened?” She prodded. She could feel her own agitation building up in her chest but she knew that getting angry with Ivar wouldn’t help the situation. 

 

Ivar cried out, throwing his cell phone across the room. An ominous shatter was heard and Aaline stiffened, leaning back on her heels and pursing her lips. She was getting angry. Ivar was throwing a temper tantrum and she refused to acknowledge it. 

 

“Are you quite finished?” She yelled. Ivar spun to face her, his chest heaving and his teeth bared like a rabid dog.

 

“Know that you’ve successfully destroyed your phone and thrown an epic tantrum, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you or continue to be a child?” She snapped. Ivar glared at her and pointed an accusing finger. 

 

“You have no idea what I’m dealing with. Don’t call me a child!” 

 

“Well, you’re acting like a child! I asked you what was bothering you and you would rather throw a temper tantrum than speak to me!”

 

“It doesn’t matter! No one agrees with me so it doesn’t matter what’s bothering me! Just leave it alone!”

 

“I’d rather not, Ivar, seeing as you’ve shattered your phone and created a rather large dent in the wall. I say again, are you finished acting like a child?” 

 

“You’re an insufferable woman, do you know that?”

 

“If I’m so insufferable why do you let me sleep here?”   
  


“That’s a good question!”

 

Ivar and Aaline had steadily gotten closer to each other as they argued. Both were breathing heavily and Aaline could feel the heat emanating from her face. Her eyes were wet with frustration and she scoffed at him. 

 

“I don’t know why I even tried.” She shook her head and turned on her heel, back into the bathroom. She rummaged quickly through various drawers before she had all the necessary items. 

 

Ivar was still standing where she’d left him and his eyes narrowed at the sight of her. “What are you doing?” He watched as she strolled past him, her toiletries spilling out of her arms. 

 

“I’m leaving because you  _ clearly _ don’t want me here anymore.” Ivar scoffed and rolled his eyes, moving towards her. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He shot back when she spun violently to face him and pointed an accusing finger in front of his face. He held his hands up in surrender and sighed.

 

“I’m being ridiculous? Let me remind you that all I did was ask if you were alright. One little question and you blow up. Throwing things across the room and refusing to answer me. I’m your  _ wife _ , Ivar, I’m allowed to be concerned but if you don’t want to tell me what’s bothering, fine, I’ll go but don’t expect me to come back just because you ask.” 

 

She whipped around and slammed the door behind her. Ivar scoffed and turned away from the door, already regretting his outburst.

 

.

 

“They are going to retaliate. We need to be ready when they do.” Aelle said, leaning into Ecbert. Ecbert smiled and raised his glass when his wife waved at him from her position on the dance floor. 

 

Ecbert sighed and glanced at Aelle. “Must we discuss this here, Aelle? Our children just got married. It’s a happy time.” Ecbert waved at a passing guest and took a drink of his champagne. 

 

“We need to be prepared, Ecbert. We need a plan of attack. We can’t expect them to just wait around. They’re planning something. I know they are.”

 

Ecbert sighed and readjusted his weight in his seat, turning to face the other Saxon. “Aelle,” He waited until the other man looked at him. “Killing Aethelwulf  _ was _ their retaliation. The next thing they’re going to do is wait for us to make a move so, yes, we’ll make a plan.” He turned back to the dance floor. 

 

The DJ had begun playing some ridiculous song that had people flapping their arms and legs in a ridiculous imitation of dancing. “As soon as the wedding is over, we’ll start planning.”  

 

He glanced over at his companion and sighed at the pensive expression on Aelle’s face. “It’s a wedding, Aelle. Loosen the collar a bit, have some fun.” Ecbert stood and left his companion to his silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while. I've been meaning to write something for a long time but, for whatever reason, I haven't been in the writing spirit. I'm getting ready to go on vacation and I felt that you deserved an update. I hope you enjoy. Not a whole lot of smut but some plot development and a little bit of relationship building.


	20. The Taste That Your Lips Allow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Aaline each contemplate how to forgive. A tender reunion resolves conflict.

_ "Bitterness imprisons life; love releases it."  _

_ ~ Henry Emerson Fosdick _

 

Ivar scowled across the distance at his brother. Hvitserk had his hands up, guarding his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting. Ivar narrowed his eyes and feinted right before attacking from the left. Hvitserk cursed and ducked, barely dodging the blow. Ivar continued his attack, bombarding Hvitserk with blows from every angle. 

 

Hvitserk swung out and uppercut Ivar from below. Ivar staggered back and huffed, wiping his forearm across his face, a streak of red staining his skin. He glared at it before turning back to his brother. He snarled before abandoning the boxing stance entirely and lunging at Hvitserk, wrapping his arms around his waist and bringing him to the ground. 

 

Hvitserk grunted and took Ivar’s weight, easily gaining the upper hand.

 

He settled Ivar in a headlock and wrapped his legs around his brother’s waist. Ivar groaned and strained against Hvitserk’s hold, clawing at the arm around his neck.

 

Hvitserk was only willing to endure so much abuse and he’d had enough.

 

Ivar had been walking around like a black cloud had descended over his world for the last week. He scowled at everyone, refused to attend family dinners, yelled at the house staff, and sulked through meetings. 

 

Ragnar had tried more than once to talk to Ivar and figure out what was wrong. In all honesty, they  _ knew _ what was wrong. Aaline and Ivar had gotten into some kind of argument and she had relocated back to her room. 

 

In fairness, she never really moved  _ out _ of her room but she’d taken to sleeping in Ivar’s room the last few weeks. Björn had filled the brothers in the night they’d killed Aethelwulf. He’d seen Aaline in Ivar’s room and she looked flushed. Ivar had been pissed when Björn had knocked and he looked slightly disheveled.

 

Björn said that Ivar’s hair had been messy and his clothes wrinkled. His mouth was suspiciously shiny and Björn said he tried to ignore the noticeable bulge in Ivar’s pants. 

 

The brothers had been all too thrilled for him but things didn’t seem to be able to last.

 

No sooner had they started celebrating Ivar’s progress with his wife, he was walking around like someone had pissed in his cheerios. Aaline refused to look at him when he entered a room and Ivar spent all his free time in the gym, bloodying his knuckles and aggravating his hips. 

 

The brothers had taken turns sparring with him. They were all careful to keep his temper in check, hesitant to aggravate him beyond control. Sigurd had even been tentative and he was always eager to irritate Ivar. His rage was unparalleled and he had a hair-trigger temper that, recently, was one step from exploding. 

 

Today was Hvitserk’s turn and he was tired of humoring his brother. 

 

Ivar snarled and scratched at Hvitserk’s arm. “Fucking let me go.” He growled.

 

Hvitserk grunted against the punch that Ivar landed to his hip. He didn’t have as much power in this position and Hvitserk was expecting the hit.

 

Ivar grunted and pulled tight against Hvitserk’s hold, trying to break it. 

 

“Yield.” Hvitserk gritted out between clenched teeth.     

 

Ivar growled low in his throat and stretched his neck, pulling hard against Hvitserk’s hold. 

 

Björn rounded the corner and sighed, the picture a familiar one. He adjusted his jacket and stalked forward. “Hvitserk, enough.” He barked. 

 

Hvitserk glanced over at Björn and huffed, releasing Ivar. As soon as he was free, Ivar sat back and cocked his arm, landing a solid hit to the center of Hvitserk’s face. Björn shouted and raced forward, launching himself over the ropes. 

 

Ubbe and Sigurd were right around the corner and, hearing Björn yell, careened around the corner and following him into the ring. Björn and Ubbe hauled Ivar off Hvitserk with Sigurd tugged him to his feet. Ivar was spitting and cursing, his blood boiling. 

 

“Enough, Ivar!” Björn shouted his arms around him in a bearhug. Ivar continued to struggle against his oldest brother, watching with fire in his eyes and Hvitserk staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his nose. 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Hvitserk sighed. He swiped his forearm beneath his nose, blood streaking his arm. He glanced up at Ivar and shook his head. Ivar looked crazed, his eyes wild and unfocused, his chest heaving against Björn’s hold. 

 

“Huh, Ivar? What’s wrong with you?” Ivar stared at Hvitserk, his anger slowly ebbing away.

 

“Let go of me.” He said, his voice soft and barely carrying in the space between the brothers. Björn hesitated but Ivar wasn’t patient and shrugged out of his brother's hold. Björn took half a step back, glancing at the other three men in the ring. They all eyed Ivar with trepidation, balanced on the balls of their feet, waiting. 

 

Ivar sighed and rolled his neck, ripping at the ties of his gloves. He slipped his left hand beneath his arm, tugging the glove from his hand. He flexed his fingers wide, stretching. 

 

Hvitserk hesitated before he took a step forward. “You’ve been off for over a week. Your head’s been somewhere else. You’re angry.”

 

Sigurd snorted and Ubbe cut a sharp look his way. He cleared his throat and settled his hands on his hips, watching Ivar. Hvitserk glanced at Sigurd before amending his statement. “Angrier than usual, I mean. What’s going on?”

 

Ivar dropped both of his gloves to the ground, suddenly exhausted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut, feeling a headache pounding at the back of his head.

 

He’d only been angry with Aaline for the first couple of days. She had been so unreasonable, yelling at him and storming off. He had just been so frustrated with the Aelle situation and lack of progress. If she had just left him alone he wouldn’t have yelled and she would still be sleeping in his bed. Maybe they would’ve moved past gentle fondling and oral sex to full-blown fucking. God knows she’d tried to move towards it enough times before their disagreement. 

 

He hated to admit it but maybe he shouldn’t have yelled at her. She’d only asked a simple question and what had he done? He blew up at her. Screaming and yelling about her being ridiculous and calling him a child. He felt bad as soon as she’d walked out but his pride wouldn’t let him go after her. 

 

That was just over a week ago and his self-doubt and anger had been boiling just beneath his skin for days. He felt bad and knew he was in the wrong but, no matter what he told himself, he couldn't bring himself to find her and apologize. It wasn’t in his nature. He was chafing under the pressure beneath his skin and he didn’t know what to do. 

 

He’d been taking it out on his brother’s and they were clearly very done with him.

 

“Ivar.” He turned to look over his shoulder. His brothers were standing in staggered order, watching him, waiting. He sighed and shook his head, unwrapping his hands.

 

Hvitserk glanced at Björn before taking a deep breath, bracing. “Is it about Aaline?” Ivar froze and glanced up, over at his brothers. They were tense, ready for him to react but he surprised them.           

 

He heaved a deep sigh and shook his head, resuming his work. Hvitserk drew his eyebrows together and took a few steps forward. “Ivar, we know that you two got into an argument. I’m assuming you haven’t resolved said argument.”

 

“You would assume correctly, brother.” Ivar drawled, his voice low and deadly. He didn’t look up from his hands but Hvitserk could see the tension in his frame.

 

“Ivar, I know…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I know that you...that you miss her.” Ivar turned his head to his brother, his eyes hard as ice and narrowed. Hvitserk took another deep breath and licked his lips. 

 

“It’s alright to admit it. She’s your wife. Frankly, we were glad that you two seemed to be getting on. We noticed when it went sour.” Hvitserk tried to smile but the tightness in Ivar’s jaw drew him up short and he glanced back at his brothers. Björn nodded once and Hvitserk continued. 

 

“Look, I know it’s not exactly your strong suit but, maybe, you should try and apologize?” Hvitserk took a half step back when Ivar turned to face him, his face set in stone. 

 

“Apologize? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Ivar insisted. Björn clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and shook his head.

 

“I’m sure that’s not true, Ivar. Did you yell at her, maybe? Call her some name?” Ivar narrowed his eyes at his oldest brother but couldn’t bring himself to respond. Björn was, after all, correct. He knew it, too. A smile crept over Björn’s face and he nodded once. 

 

“Fix whatever it is you’ve done. You don’t have to say the words ‘I’m sorry’ but you need to make it clear that you are.” He said.

 

Ivar settled his hands on his hips, staring at his brothers. They all had wives. Björn had been married for as long as he could remember. Ubbe wasn’t necessarily  _ happy _ with Margrethe but he seemed content. Hvitserk and Thora were disgustingly in love and Sigurd seemed to be happy with Sibylle. He concluded that he should probably take their advice. As much as it pained him to do so, they probably weren’t that far off.

 

He met Hvitserk’s eyes. “Her favorite flowers are roses.” Hvitserk grinned and slapped his shoulder. 

 

“We should get her some roses then.”

 

.

 

Aaline gazed at the bouquet of mixed roses. White, yellow, and pink roses looked out at her from the large bouquet placed dead center in the middle of her desk. She hummed and gently thumbed the silky petals. 

 

She tilted her head to the side and studied the arrangement. It came with a card but there was no message. Just a simple uppercase “I” had been scribbled on the card stock in the little envelope. Wherever he had gone was expensive. The card was stiff and durable, designed to be handled with some sense of roughness. The envelope was the same kind of material, beautifully folded and clearly handcrafted. 

 

The arrangement was placed in a large blue crystal vase with gold accents on the rim and the base. Another handcrafted item. She could tell by the slight dips and curves around the rim. 

 

He had clearly done his research. Each rose told her what he couldn’t say with words. He had picked yellow roses because they symbolized a wish to say sorry. They worked for all occasions but they were typically the go-to rose for apologies. 

 

The white roses represented his hope for the future. White roses worked well at weddings and christenings but it also served to tell the receiver that they were respected and the giver wished for a bright future with or for the recipient. They promised new beginnings and loyalty. 

 

The pink roses were interesting. They weren’t a deep pink which typically acted as a “thank you” or an appreciation. They were pale pink, baby pink. A representation of a new romantic occasion. 

 

She tapped the edge of the card against her bottom lip, studying the flowers. 

 

It was a beautiful arrangement. He had put time and effort into the flowers. Speaking directly with the florist and making sure they used the right color and that the bouquet wasn’t too crowded. He’d done well. It wasn’t too big to be gaudy but it wasn’t too small to be understated. 

 

Aaline had to appreciate his attempt at an apology. Ivar wasn’t one to make a verbal apology but his attempt at physical one wasn’t anything to laugh at. He sought outside help to make it possible and Aaline knew that probably wasn’t easy. 

 

She didn’t turn when her door was pushed open. She was expecting Torvi. The blonde had called earlier to go out to lunch and Aaline had told her to just come up. She wanted her opinion on the roses. 

 

She felt the older woman stop beside her and they both examined the roses in silence.

 

“It’s very pretty.” Torvi finally said. Aaline hummed and tapped the card against her lip. 

 

“I think he went to the florist on 12th Street. They import their flowers from Latin America fresh every week. A bouquet like this, with the handcrafted vase and paper, was probably a few thousand dollars.” 

 

Torvi kept her voice even and soft like she was trying not to disturb the quiet contemplation that Aaline had created. 

 

Aaline hummed again and dropped the card from her face, setting it carefully back on the desk, before turning to Torvi. 

 

“Lunch? I’m starving.” Torvi hesitated before she smiled, nodding once. 

 

The two women left the office but Aaline’s mind was far from calm. Hundreds of thoughts seemed to filter through her mind and she walked towards the elevators. She pushed them all from her mind knowing that there was nothing she could do now. She had made a decision though. 

 

She decided to finally speak to her husband. 

 

.

 

Ivar had a towel to his head, rubbing the water from the strands as he left his bathroom. Another towel was strung low around his waist and his chest was damp. He froze as soon as his wife appeared in his line of vision. 

 

Her eyes trailed over his form and he swelled with male satisfaction at the blush that crept across her cheeks.

 

She stood stock-still in the middle of the room with her hands clasped in front of her. Her face was hard but not in anger. She had a purpose. She was there to accomplish something. 

 

Ivar tossed his towel towards the hamper by the bathroom and looked back to her, giving her his full attention. 

 

She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. Ivar watched her struggle to speak, amused. She cleared her throat again and opened her mouth.

 

“I got your flowers. Thank you. They were beautiful.” Her eyes darted throughout the room, looking at everything but him. Her cheeks were still rosy and it was beginning to spread down her neck and chest, appearing in splotchy patches across her chest. 

 

Ivar watched the color spread across her skin and wondered if it showed up everywhere. Would it paint the skin of her belly and thighs or just her chest and neck? How long did it last? He glanced up when she called his name. Her eyes darted across his chest and her blush deepened. 

 

“Could you, maybe, put some clothes on?” She asked. Ivar smirked and acquiesced. He tugged the t-shirt from his dresser over his head. He nodded once and she smiled. 

 

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft and Ivar couldn’t recall a time when he’d heard it so quiet. She’d only ever spoken to him with a firm tone. She wasn’t often in a vulnerable position but she was now and he could tell that she wasn’t used to it. She hadn’t looked at him when she spoke but she was looking at him now.  

 

“I know what you were trying to do.” It was his turn to look away now. He turned to the dresser and muddled around with the objects on his dresser, moving the cologne bottles around, pushing his jewelry across the surface, anything to keep his eyes off of her. 

 

“I’m not very good at this.” She whispered. The sound carried between them only because there was no other noise. Ivar may not have heard her if something else was going on. But hear her he did and he glanced up at her. 

 

Her face was still a soft pink but the color was starting to fade. Her arms were relaxed at her sides but her hands were still clenched into fists. Her eyes were rapt on his face and she rocked slightly from side to side. 

 

“Apologizing?” He asked. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head once. 

 

“Confrontation. I don’t like it. I prefer to deal with my problems behind the scenes where people won’t see me however, I felt that this topic needed to be addressed in person.” Her throat bobbed and she hummed. She opened her mouth to continue but Ivar cut her off.

 

“That was my intention.” He leaned back against the dresser, his fingers curled around the edge. A crease appeared between her eyebrows in her confusion. He heaved a sigh and gestured towards her with one hand. “The flowers. Björn told me I needed to fix it so...You told me you liked roses and the woman at the flower shop said that—”

 

Before he could finish she was in front of him and her hands hovered over his chest. His mouth closed with an audible click and he looked down into her eyes. Her lips parted and she took a deep breath to speak but before she could Ivar dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. 

 

It was quick. A gentle press of lips together that was over before it started. Ivar pulled back and gazed down at her, his lips tingling where they’d met hers. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted just a little. 

 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, dazed. He smiled down at her. A real smile, not a cocky grin or self-assured smirk. A smile. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and he very nearly groaned. Before he could get the sound out, she was up on her toes pressing into him. 

 

Her lips settled against his again, this time with firmer pressure. He parted his lips and dipped his tongue into her mouth, moaning at the taste of her. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, tangling her fingers in the hair at the base. He pulled a hand from the dresser and smoothed it up her back, curling his fingers around her nape and tilting her head to the side. He angled his head and curled himself around her, settling her frame against his, pulling her close.

 

Aaline moaned and Ivar dipped his tongue deeper into her mouth. She pressed harder against him, molding her body to his, eliminating any space between them. Ivar groaned and pulled back, a familiar stirring beginning in his cock. 

 

He looked down at Aaline and smoothed her hair back away from her face. She blinked up at him in tender contentment. Ivar hummed and bumped his nose against hers. 

 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” His voice was soft but she heard him. A slow smile spread across her face and she nodded. Ivar grinned and pressed her close again, burying his face in her neck.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update as much as possible. School's almost over so hopefully that'll make it easier to write and update more regularly. Thanks for reading!


End file.
